Ambition's End
by Hanako A
Summary: There are two ways to tell a man to do something. Hermione Granger is well acquainted with both.
1. Prologue

**Ambition's End: Prologue  
**

**Disclaimer:** None of these characters are mine as they all belong to JKR.

* * *

There are two ways to tell a man to do something. The first ensures that he will do as requested. The second will make him do anything but what was asked of him. In fact, chances are he will do the exact opposite instead. 

Hermione Granger stumbled upon this truth during the winter of her third year of Hogwarts when Harry refused to heed her warnings about the Firebolt. She practiced both ways the next two years after that, finally perfecting the art of the second method at the end of her fifth year. It took her longer to master the first way, men being the stubborn creatures that they are, but eventually she learned how a gentle tone and a soft touch could sway even the most obstinate of men. By the end of what should have been her seventh year, she was a past master of both methods. She was well on her way to becoming an expert on getting people to do what she wanted without them ever realizing that they were being used.

Witches who relied upon their physical charms to manipulate men were mere novices— initiates really—compared to her. There was only so much a wizard would do for a witch who too eagerly spread her legs for him. Hermione knew that it was better to dole out one's affections sparingly, if at all. She knew how to let a man wonder about how soft her breasts were, how sweet her kisses would be, and how good it must be to fit so snugly inside of her. Give a man a kiss, and he'll stay with you for a day. Promise him one, and his fantasies would make a part of him yours forever.

So it was that by the time Hermione had turned twenty, she had all the tools she needed to make her fondest ambition real. It was the same ambition that caused the Sorting Hat to put her in Gryffindor all those years ago, fearing what may be if it placed this most cunning of witches in the House where she truly belonged.

* * *

"Is he _drunk_?" she hissed viciously. She peered at her friend's red eyes and took note of his shaking hands. "Ronald Bilius Weasley! I expressly told you not to let Harry have anything to drink!" 

Ron winced. He knew that tone of voice only too well. Hermione Granger was peeved with him, and it would take a miracle for him to get out of this one with his skin intact. She whirled around to face him, planting her hands on her hips.

"I cannot believe your stupidity," she cried. Noticing Harry's grimace of pain, she lowered her voice. "How is he supposed to function if he can't put two words together to save his life?"

"But Hermione!" Ron protested. "You saw how he was. He was an absolute mess just thinking about speaking in front of all these people. I thought a sip of firewhisky wouldn't hurt."

"Sip? He looks like he drank half the damn bottle."

"More like all of it," Ron muttered. He could practically see the steam rising from her head at those words.

"You are an incompetent fool," she told him. She looked down her nose at him, and he suddenly felt only two feet high. "It isn't any wonder why no witch will have you."

"You did," he replied sullenly.

"That didn't last long, now did it? Thank Morganna I ended it when I did. Now run along. Go find your sister and see if she needs any help." She rolled her eyes. "Merlin knows that you've already done enough here."

"Hang on," he said, ignoring her dismissal. "Do you really think this is a good idea? Perhaps it would be better not to—"

"Not to what?" Her tone held all the chill of winter and more.

Ron gulped. He gathered his courage and forged ahead. Maybe now was not the best time to raise this point, but no one else in their group had dared to. "Not to do this. Not to make Harry give this speech you wrote for him. Blast it all, Hermione, do you think this will work? I mean, this marriage law idea is ludicrous, but it has so much momentum….do you think that one speech from Harry will stop it?"

She skewered him with a glance. "I'm sorry. Are you casting aspersions on my plan? The one that everyone agreed was brilliant?"

"No…well…that is, I…" His voice trailed off as he realized that the air around him had only got colder.

"Don't forget who is paid to think around here. It certainly isn't you," Hermione said. Her voice had never been as heartless as it was now. She folded her arms across her chest and continued, "Yes, I do think everything will go according to plan. Harry's speech will have the desired effect upon the marriage law debate. I have goals in life that I want to achieve, and I won't let some idiot pure-blood stop me from that. Now get going."

This time he did as asked and fled.

* * *

What Harry had gone on to say that day became legend. He deviated again and again from the speech Hermione had prepared for him, ranting drunkenly how pure-bloods were to blame for everything bad that had happened during the war and how the marriage law was their last ditch attempt to prevent them from getting what they deserved. He wasn't given a chance to elaborate that point. Hermione pulled him from the stage then and there, but the way he waved his wand about as she dragged him away left an enduring impression in the minds of all present. The coalition that had banded together to oppose the marriage law suffered a mighty blow that day as nothing could be done to erase what had been said. 

The coalition was quick to provide the press with a copy of the prepared speech. It took a bit of arm twisting, but most papers agreed to quote from the text rather than from what was actually said. To everyone's surprise, that only made things worse. Pure-bloods had become paranoid after Harry had all but threatened them with death and destruction. They found malicious intent in every word written, though none was meant. It was soon apparent that the coalition was fighting a losing battle.

Still Hermione Granger managed to rip a thread of victory from the jaws of defeat. The marriage law did pass. All pure-blood wizards would be required to find a half-blood or Muggle-born witch to marry. In exchange for the coalition dropping its resistance and thus ensuring a speedier passage for the law, a provision was added that allowed witches the right of refusal. No witch would be forced to marry against her will. If a pure-blood wizard could not find a willing witch, then he would be the last of his line. None of the old families were worried about this fate; there were many more Muggle-borns than there were pure-bloods, and it was assumed a bride could always be bought.

It was a shock to them all when news broke that Katie Bell had refused the proposal of Marcus Flint. After injuries had forced her to retire from Quidditch, she should have leapt at the chance as it would have conveyed financial security on her. To pour salt to the wound, her refusal was widely published. In next to no time, Flint became the laughingstock of the Wizarding World, with many a gossip spreading lurid tales of what made him such an unacceptable choice.

No other pure-blood wizard would make the same mistake. Their options would be vetted to gauge a witch's amenability along with her beauty and power, all three seen as necessities for a bride. An offer would not be made unless it was certain the witch would say yes. The humiliation born by Flint was not something any other wizard would wish to bear.

It was only natural that some wizards, whose families' reputations were in tatters after the war, would turn to blackmail to find a willing witch.

* * *

"You are very clever. Full marks to you for your research," said Hermione, "but I fail to see why you bothered to bring this to my attention." She looked up at the wizard who had insisted on meeting with her. He was easily six inches taller than her, even with her heels. She knew the disparity in their heights was to impress upon her just who had the power in this confrontation. 

"Is that so, Granger?" He leaned against the wall, his eyes half-lidded as he examined her. "Should I have brought it up to Potter and Weasley instead?"

"What difference would that make? My friends are loyal, Malfoy. You would have to do far worse to get them to doubt me. If that's your game, then this little meeting of yours has been a waste of my time." With a toss of her head, she turned and walked away.

"Is that so?" His tone turned vicious as he caught up to her in two steps, seizing her arm and twisting it behind her as he forced her against the wall. She gasped in pain. He let go of her arm in favor of planting his hands on either side of her head. "And what do you think the _Daily Prophet_ would think if I told them? Do you think your friends will be able to stop you from being eviscerated in the press? Plenty of what you did in the war had questionable ethics at best. If all your actions were to be re-examined, do you think that you'll get off so lightly if my research becomes common knowledge?"

Hermione bit her lip, visibly shaken from the thought. "What do you want?" she ground out.

"What makes you think that I want anything from the likes of you?"

"If you didn't, you wouldn't have bothered with any of this." Hermione locked eyes with him. It wouldn't do to let him think that she was too weak. "You would've have just gone about your merry way and done your best to ruin my life."

"That's funny. Because that's exactly what I intend to do." He paused to see if that got a response out of her. It didn't. "I need a wife," he continued, "and I shan't let a witch do to me what that bitch did to Flint."

"Ah. Marcus Flint." Hermione smiled sweetly. "Poor Katie. She was in tears when she received his proposal. It was dreadful."

"Shut up!" he shouted, banging his fist against the wall beside her head. "That fucking slag led him on! For two months, they saw each other and she let him think that he had a chance. As soon as she had the chance though, she stabbed him in the back." He huffed in anger. "Everyone knew she had refused him before he received the official response."

"And now, almost a year later, Flint still hasn't found any witch willing to have him. No shock there with the sort of performance issues—" She stopped when he grabbed her by the shoulders hard.

"Enough," said Malfoy. "The only pleasure I will get from complying with this damn law is making sure you are as miserable as I am. Tomorrow you will receive official notice that I've asked for you. You will send an affirmative response within the hour."

"And if I do not?"

"Then you can kiss whatever respect and position you've managed to earn in the Wizarding World good-bye. Have I made myself clear?" He lowered his head so his nose was practically touching hers, as he stared her down. She was the first to look away.

"Crystal," she whispered.

"Perfect. Till tomorrow, love," he spat the last word out as though it were a curse.

She stood silently against the wall for several minutes after he left, her heart racing though not from the fear he thought he inspired in her. No, Hermione Granger was trying to come down from that euphoric high she felt once she realized what Malfoy's intentions were. It wouldn't do to prance around the office with a stupid grin on her face, no matter how well things had went here. No, she didn't want to broadcast to the world that everything—all of her plans, all of her desires—was finally falling into place.

* * *

**A/N:** I haven't ever seen this twist in a marriage law fic, so I thought I'd give it a whirl. Like? Dislike? Please leave a review to let me know. 


	2. Game Start

**Ambition's End: Game Start  
**

**Disclaimer:** None of these characters are mine.

* * *

Much like a cat who had just found a saucer full of cream, a smug grin covered Hermione's face. She elegantly untied the letter from the owl's leg, offering it a bit of a treat, before slowly opened the letter, wanting to relish every moment of this victory. It was a pleasant surprise to see his official proposal first thing this morning. His parting shot had given her reason to expect it today, but she thought he would have taken more time in sending it. The fact that he didn't tarry spoke volumes about his eagerness to get everything squared away. That was good. Hermione was looking forward to settling the matter of her marriage to a wizard of suitable means and status so she could move on to the next phase of her life's plan. Humming tunelessly, Hermione penned her response to the formal offer Malfoy had sent. 

She leaned back in her chair as she perused the words she had written, editing the letter as she went. She added a couple sentences to indicate that she would meet him this afternoon to officially register their betrothal with the Ministry. Once finished, she carefully placed it in an envelope and addressed it, then set it aside as it was too soon to send it. Instead, she quickly cast spell that would alert her once enough time had passed by. Hermione would comply with the time frame he had set yesterday but she wasn't about to reply right away. Let him wait and think that she was broken up over being trapped into marriage by him. Little did he know that the opposite was true.

Her smile only grew wider as she got up and left the room, thinking of how many other witches had pursued the wizard she had chosen for her husband. It was she who had been the one wily enough to trap him, though he knew it not. He was very clever in his own right, and Hermione thought she would be content with a man she didn't have to constantly look after, unlike her best friends. It didn't hurt that he was very handsome; if Hermione had to tie herself down to one man for the rest of her life, she at least wanted to enjoy looking at him. She doubted she would be able to stand much of his conversation. However, she did like that Malfoy could be trusted not to create any scandals; his parents would have trained him to avoid that. And he would have the contacts the she herself did not have.

Hermione knew that most positions of power were still held by pure-bloods, who thought themselves above Muggle-borns even if they did not support the extreme position taken by Voldemort and his followers. She held no illusions about that. Her constant struggles with the head of her department had only enforced the lessons she learned about pure-blood snobbery at Hogwarts. After her marriage she would be tolerated more graciously by most pure-bloods, but that would be out of respect to the Malfoy family and not because any genuine change of heart.

She rubbed at her eyes as she padded into the kitchen, the sun's rays burning into them, as she switched her focus to more immediate concerns such as breakfast. The rich scent aroma of coffee filled the air, with nuances of vanilla and hazelnut. Yawning, she walked over to pour herself her morning cup. Every night, the last thing she did before turning in, was to make sure her coffee machine was set up so that a fresh pot of coffee would be ready for her when she woke. Her school years had taught her the importance of rising early; there was always so much to do and so little time in which to accomplish it all. After the war had ended and Hermione had set her sights on greater things than mere survival, coffee had become the fuel she needed to get her going in the mornings after long nights spent planning and plotting.

There were times, however, when Hermione went without having her coffee first thing in the morning. Those were when she had to bail out a friend—usually Harry or Ron or on several occasions both—who had too much to drink. She honestly didn't care that her friends sometimes overindulged so long as they didn't get themselves into any trouble. That was asking for too much though when it came to her them, and she had to step in before they got embroiled in a situation that she couldn't easily brush under the rug. It was very important that Harry's reputation was kept pristine. He wouldn't be half as useful to her if she let it be tarnished in any way. So when Harry needed her help, she was always there, apparating him back to her flat, where she stowed him away in the guest room. She would make sure there would be a dose of her homemade hangover remedy waiting for him on the bedside table, and she never asked any questions of him when he left, though she was always willing to listen to anything he had to say. Ron was a different story all together. When Hermione had to pull his sorry arse out of the fire, he slept on the sofa in her living room. Said sofa faced the kitchen window, which was charmed to project sunshine into her flat. Waking up on her sofa with a hangover was not a pleasant experience. It didn't take too many turns on it for Ron to start avoiding situations where he would need Hermione to rescue him. She couldn't be happier about that. Hermione had great hopes for Ron when she was younger. However, even before the war had ended, she had come to the conclusion that the attributes in him that made him the perfect test dummy for her skills also made him unsuitable for anything but the most basic of tasks. Part of what made him so easy to manipulate was that he wore his heart on his sleeve. One could always tell what he was feeling just by looking at his face. Ron would keep secrets as necessary, but Hermione needed someone who was capable of keeping secret the fact that he had a secret. Fortunately, Draco Malfoy did not suffer from that same problem. It was true that Harry had stumbled upon Malfoy crying his heart out in their sixth year but that was pure luck as Malfoy had chose the perfect hiding place for a Slytherin; no one would have thought to look for him there.

Hermione sat her coffee mug down on the table so she could get her food. She rummaged in the fridge briefly, quickly taking out the fruit she had sliced up the night before to eat for breakfast today. As she sat down, she reflected that Malfoy was very much an enigma. She didn't know how to push his buttons the way she knew how for both Harry and Ron. He had taken longer than she expected to use the information she had planted for him against her. Absently she ate a strawberry, her mouth twisting slightly at its sour taste. If it had been Ron instead of Malfoy, he would have been banging on her door the same day. It took Malfoy weeks before he finally approached her. That had surprised her; the boy she knew back at Hogwarts would have leapt at the chance to pull one over her. It seemed that he had grown up and become more patient than she remembered.

Indeed she was impressed when he finally did make his move. It seemed that he had not squandered away his time, amassing many a damning fact about her. Her lips curled up as she remembered how proud he was of his accomplishment. Yes, that was where his weak spot lied. His pride. Hermione did not know him well enough yet to be able to manipulate him the way she was able to manipulate the other men in her life. However, his pride was his weakness and she would work from there.

Her reverie was broken by the spell she had cast earlier going off, alerting Hermione to look at the clock. It was now fifty minutes since she had received the official proposal from Malfoy. She hurriedly got to her feet and went to her living room. It was time to send out her acceptance and get on with the rest of her day. Hermione had already made plans to take a long lunch in order to visit with her former Transfiguration professor at Hogwarts. With her plans to meet Malfoy this afternoon, it would be more convenient for her to take the afternoon off. Hence, she had to hurry and get in the office. She wanted to get at least five hours worth of work in before she took off. It was a good thing that Harry and Ron were currently out of the country; if they were in town, Hermione's plans for the day would be shot as she knew they would be amongst the first to hear the slightest rumor about her and Malfoy. That was pure luck, and she wouldn't let it go to waste. Although she already had plans in place with how she was going to break the news to her friends, she would tweak those plans just in case her friends did wind up coming home early.

* * *

Granger's reply was everything he expected it to be. Short, terse, and to the point. Yet there was a note of anger behind the crisp, detached language that she had used. No, it was only too clear that Granger wasn't pleased with the situation she found herself in. That was good. Draco Malfoy hadn't really been too happy with his life since his sixth year. It was about time that one of the Golden Trio felt the same. 

He lengthened his stride, quickly making his way through the manor, knowing that it was already past time for him to meet his parents for breakfast downstairs. He had lingered too long over her letter, savoring the fact that he had finally managed to pull one over on the brains of the Golden Trio. He had not believed his luck when he had first learned about Granger's secret. Knowing he had to take care and confirm that the information was true, he had carefully gone back and researched it thoroughly. It hadn't taken him long to decide what to do with it once he had confirmed its veracity. Draco had planned all along to comply with the new marriage law, as it was unacceptable for him to be the last of his line. It was like a dream come true for him to be able to trap Granger into marriage. Just thinking of what Potter and Weasley's reactions would be to that brightened his day. As he took the stairs two steps at a time, he wondered if there was a way he could be there when they found out.

He paused before he entered the dining room and checked the mirror to make sure he was presentable. After straightening his robes, Draco entered the room, dropping a swift kiss on his mother's cheek in greeting and nodding at his father, who was reading the morning paper. He crossed the room to take his seat.

"So nice of you to join us, Draco," Lucius Malfoy said. "We were beginning to wonder if you were ever going to make an appearance."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I had a bit of business to take care of this morning, and I'm afraid that I lost track of time." He pulled his napkin over his lap signaling the kitchen elves to fill his plate. His stomach rumbled, reminding him how long it had been since he had last eaten, and he eagerly took a bite of his eggs.

"Busy day ahead of you?" his mother asked. He nodded his head yes as his mouth was still full. His mother whipped her head around to glare at his father.

"I swear, dear, I said nothing to the boy," said his father, holding up his hands.

"Not even the slightest hint?" she asked, arching an eyebrow at her husband.

"Absolutely not," his father said emphatically.

"Did you have plans for today, Mother?" asked Draco. It wasn't unusual for his mother to make plans for him without her bothering to tell him about them until the last minute. She usually did that when she knew that he wouldn't be too keen on doing what she had planned.

"Yes, and I had hoped that you would accompany me, seeing how your father refused to," she said with a sigh. "Beastly man! I decided that it was high time that I turn my attention to redoing the east wing. Seeing as that's where your room is, I thought you might like to go with me when I choose a color scheme."

Draco blanched, then shot a look of horror at his father. The occupation of the manor by the Death Eaters, as Draco preferred to call it, affected each member of their family in a different way. His father never spoke of those days. However, though they never spoke about it, Draco knew his father regretted that his actions had placed his family in such danger. His father's actions told the story of his guilt; his father's reluctance to get a new wand and his father handing control of the family assets to Draco spoke volumes to those who knew him. It saddened Draco to think how much his father had been broken by the war. He missed the man who was brimming with confidence who he had looked up to as a child.

His mother, on the other hand, was bound and determined to erase all reminders of the war. Shortly after his father had been cleared—ironically enough, it was his father's lack of a wand that had saved him from the Ministry's wrath—she had informed the both of them that she intended to redo the entire manor, from top to bottom. Since then she had worked feverishly at the task she had set before her, as if she could strip their home of all those painful memories simply by changing the drapes and the furnishings. Though Draco was hardly in a position to criticize her actions, seeing as that while she sought to clean their home, he was concerned with clearing the taint from their family name. While Draco hadn't supported the law himself, he was able to live with it. He had been raised knowing that his future bride would be chosen on the basis of what she could bring to his family, and after the war, he had intended to find a witch from the winning side in order to increase his family's acceptability, as well as clout, within society. The law simply meant that he had fewer witches to choose from, not that there were many with the sort of influence he was looking for to begin with. He knew he was very lucky to discover the one thing that could make Granger agree to his proposal, and he didn't want to squander any time.

Suddenly he was struck with the perfect way to inform his parents of his impending betrothal. That had been the part he had been dreading the most, as it would never do for them to find out by reading it in the paper. In fact, he had gone to great lengths to make sure that would not happen, guaranteeing his contact at the Daily Prophet an exorbitant amount to inform him when any mention of his betrothal was to appear in any part of the paper. As he hadn't received any notice from said contact yet, Draco knew that he would be paying off his contact either later tonight or tomorrow morning because there was no way it would stay a secret after he met Granger at the Ministry of Magic.

"No, Father didn't mention anything about that to me," he told his mum. "I don't suppose you would mind putting that off a bit."

"Why? I remember you saying that decorating went against your masculine sensibilities. Don't tell me you've actually drummed up an interest in it?" his mother asked.

"Hardly," he replied with a roll of his eyes. "But I thought perhaps my fiancée might be interested in helping you out."

His parents exchanged a long glance, silently debating over who was to interrogate him. Draco continued to eat his breakfast as he mentally placed a bet on his mum to win. After several moments of silence, he won that bet.

"Draco," his father finally said, "I remember that we had talked with you about how you were to involve us in that decision so we could help you ensure that she would be acceptable."

"I remember that conversation. You went on and on about what qualities I should look for," Draco replied evenly.

"You always were a clever boy." His mother placed her hands in her lap and leaned forward in her chair. "Now that I think about it you never did promise us anything that day except that you would be very careful."

"Hindsight being perfect, I supposed we should have pressed that point," his father stated. "But what's done is done. Just who is the witch you have settled on?"

"Hermione Granger." The look his parents shared at that answer was one of growing concern. His mother was the first one to recover from the shock.

"She does have much to recommend her, I suppose, but I would suggest re-examining your decision before asking her," she said slowly.

"Too late. I already asked." Part of him yearned to draw out this discussion even longer, but one look at his mother's pale face and his father's trembling hands dispelled that notion. "That's why I was so late this morning," he went on. "I was waiting for her acceptance."

"Did she accept you?" Narcissa asked sharply.

"Of course. I wouldn't have bothered asking if I wasn't assured of that in advance. Do you think so little of me?" This time Draco didn't have the slightest idea what the look shared by his parents meant.

"We do trust you, but you must admit, it is surprising to hear that she has accepted you," said Lucius. "Tell me, has the betrothal been officially registered?"

Draco shook his head. "We are to meet this afternoon to do that."

"Very good," said his father.

"Draco," his mum said, "do make certain to invite her over to the manor when you see her today. Seeing how you still need to properly introduce her to us."

"All right. When should I—"

"I think Saturday will do," answered his mother before he could finish his question. "Do let me know once you've confirmed that with her."

"I will," he promised. Nothing else was said at breakfast about the matter, though Draco knew his parents would be discussing it amongst themselves once he left for the day.

* * *

The Headmaster's office had changed greatly since Hermione had been a student at Hogwarts, now reflecting the personality of its current occupant. Hermione's memories of how it had been while Professor Dumbledore had been in charge of Hogwarts were vague. She wasn't special the way Harry was special, so she hardly ever got the occasion to see it. Still the office had seemed more whimsical, for lack of a better word, when Dumbledore had resided there. Now, it took on a more practical appearance, but one that Hermione could certainly appreciate. She rather thought that using the names of obscure authors for the password was an inspired choice. 

Hermione's life had been deeply influenced by the two most recent Headmasters of Hogwarts, although in profoundly different ways. McGonagall had nurtured Hermione's intellect. Rather than turning up her nose at Hermione's almost scientific approach to magic, she had encouraged the Muggle-born witch to continue such an analytical approach, saying that one of the most important parts of being able to use any particular spell was being able to understand it. Hermione would always appreciate the fact that her head of House had believed in her enough to recommend that she be allowed the use of a Time Turner for her third year. In a way, the older witch became a surrogate parent for Hermione during her years at Hogwarts. When she was younger, Hermione relied upon her parents to support her quest for academic perfection; her Transfiguration professor fulfilled that role once she became a student at Hogwarts.

Hermione's relationship with Dumbledore, by contrast, was not nearly as close. While Dumbledore had been nothing if not kind to Hermione, she had the feeling that a good deal of his concern for her was in regards to the ways she could help Harry fulfill his destiny. She had resented the old Headmaster for that back then. Hermione harbored no illusions as to who was more powerful magically when it came to her and Harry. However, if they ever came to blows, she felt certain that her greater knowledge would lead to her victory. He didn't know even half as many spells as she did.

Now that Hermione was older, she could grasp why Dumbledore had concentrated so much on Harry. He was focused on his ultimate goal, on ensuring that the Wizarding World would not fall victim to a power-mad dictator. Dumbledore did not wish for any of his students to be harmed but at the same time, he was willing to take the necessary risks in order so that his objective would be accomplished. That was how Hermione now felt. She hoped that her plans would never lead to any lasting harm to any of her friends. However, she was also willing to make the necessary sacrifices to guarantee her victory. Moreover, she was willing to sacrifice more than Dumbledore ever did because her aspirations far exceeded his. He had only hoped to win the war. She would control the peace that came after. To her way of thinking, Dumbledore didn't try to do enough. What was the point of winning if you didn't get to change things afterwards?

The clink of a saucer being placed on the desk before her brought Hermione's attention back to the present. She smiled at Professor McGonagall—Minerva! her inner nag reminded her—as the older witch sat down across from her.

"Hogwarts is so different in the summer," said Hermione. "It's so much quieter. Does it ever get eerie not to have all the students around?"

"Sometimes, yes," Minerva replied. "But overall, I rather enjoy it. Summer is a time for us to relax and recharge before we are tasked once more to educate young minds." She took a drink from her cup. "I know that the issue of whether we should have a summer break has been brought up again to the Board of Governors. I hope things are kept the way they are now. To be sure, students do forget some of what they learned over the summer. But summer assignments prevent too much memory loss, and we professors really need the time off."

"At least you never had to worry about me in that regard," Hermione said smugly.

"Why when it came to being cause for concern, you were the worst of all, Hermione! Not for forgetting, but for studying all of next year's material during summer. Filius and I used to console one another about how it was impossible to stay ahead of you in class." She shook her head in amazement. "A student as gifted as you is both a blessing and a curse. All of your professors would agree on that point."

"Even Trelawney?"

"I shan't answer that question. You won't get me to speak ill of one of my professors so easily, even if it as easy a mark as Sibyll."

"Speaking about your staff, have you find any suitable candidates for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position?" Hermione asked. She knew that had been a concern of Minerva's the last time they had spoken.

Her former professor cast her eyes towards the ceiling and heaved a great sigh. "Merlin no! I understand now why Albus had such low standards for the position. It is virtually impossible to find a single wizard in all of Britain to even interview for it."

"That could be because everyone knows the position is cursed," suggested Hermione.

"Not you too? I assure you the position is not cursed."

"Then why haven't any of them lasted more than a year?"

"That's because they've all been so abysmal that they haven't been worth an invite back."

Hermione frowned. That much was true. It wouldn't do though to let that position languish the way Dumbledore did. "Have you asked Shacklebolt if he could spare an old Auror? He used to be an Auror, so I hope that as Minister of Magic, he would be concerned with the quality of instruction for that particular class here."

"The Aurors are short-handed as it is. Kingsley doesn't have anyone to spare."

"He can find someone," Hermione asserted. "There must be someone in the ranks who would be willing to retire from the field to take a teaching position. I'll have a word with him."

"You have my thanks for that." Minerva suddenly looked away, a telling sign that she was about to bring up the real reason she had asked the younger witch to visit. "And you have my thanks for coming to see me on such short notice as well."

"No such thanks are needed," said Hermione with a wave of her hand. "One of the benefits to being an Unspeakable is that I can set my own schedule."

"Yes, you've said as much before." The older witch finished the rest of her tea as she gathered her courage. "The truth is, Hermione, I asked you to come here today because I wanted to continue the discussion we started last time."

"Ah. The enrollment figures." Enrollment at Hogwarts had been low even during Hermione's day; however the number of students took a sharp decline after the war as many parents still questioned the school's security. Minerva had confided that fact to Hermione earlier in the summer and asked for her advice on how best to assuage those fears. "Are they lower than you expected?"

"No, at least, I don't know that for certain yet. In a week, the staff will be visiting the families of Muggle-borns to confirm that they will be attending next year." Minerva reached into her desk and pulled out a slip of paper. "When we send out the letters to Muggle-borns, most of them think it is some sort of elaborate prank until one of us stops by to pay a visit. We don't generally get a response back."

"Someone wrote back? Has that ever happened before?" Hermione asked. That had to be a first. When she and her parents had received her Hogwarts letter, they had all thought it was a bit of a joke, though part of Hermione wondered if it was the explanation for all the strange things that happened around her.

"Not to my knowledge. What is even more disturbing is what the letter says." Minerva pushed the letter across the desk to Hermione. Hermione quickly scanned it, cursing under her breath as she read its contents.

"Are you certain it came from them?" asked Hermione when she was finished. "That the owl wasn't intercepted and someone else sent this reply?"

"I hope that is the case though it is theoretically impossible to intercept a Hogwarts letter," replied Minerva. "If the Muggles thought the letter was a mere prank, as many of them do, they would have never bothered to tie a response to the owl's leg saying please leave us alone. We already had the lowest enrollment figures in all of Hogwarts' recent history last year. I simply refuse to imagine what would happen if all Muggle-borns suddenly stopped attending our school."

"I would feel sorry for them as well," said Hermione. "They belong here. If you have magic, the Wizarding World is your home. It is where you belong, no matter what other people might say. Living amongst the Muggles without any magic…I wouldn't call that living at all."

"I agree with you there. To live life bereft of magic…I would rather not think of such a possibility." Minerva focused her attention on Hermione's left ear. The younger witch braced herself for the request she knew was coming. "Will you see them? I know that the letter asks that they be left alone, but I was planning on sending someone in any case. They might have never even got the letter, and they might be happy to send their daughter here."

Hermione nodded her head. "Yes. That makes sense. And if they did send that response themselves, we'd be better off knowing what made them send it…and how they even knew how to send it."

"Thank you so much," said Minerva. "Knowing that you will look into it for me sets my mind at ease."

Hermione looked sharply at her former professor at those words. For the first time, she took notice of how thin Minerva seemed and how pale she had become. There was a slight tremble to her hands that hadn't been there before. Sprightly was no longer a word one would use to describe the old witch. Hermione's chest tightened as a heavy feeling took root in her heart.

Minerva McGonagall was old.

The other witch wasn't going to last long as Headmistress of Hogwarts. The war had aged her greatly, and trying to follow in the footsteps of Dumbledore also took its toll. Though Hermione was loathed to admit it, if Minerva was feeling well, she would have never asked Hermione to take on a duty that properly belonged to the Headmistress. It broke her heart, but Hermione mentally resolved to start looking for a replacement for her old professor. It would be cruel to ask her to stay on for more than a few years; the position would literally kill her.

Besides, it was important for Hermione to have someone to be her eyes and ears within Hogwarts, and she would prefer for that someone to be the person in charge. One thing that she had learned from Dumbledore was how pivotal Hogwarts was to the Wizarding World. Trouble seemed to first show its face at the school before appearing in other places. That had been true for the years Hermione was in school, as well as the years Harry's parents had been in school, and going back even further, true all those years ago when Tom Riddle was a student. It held true now, for Hermione would have never heard of anyone trying to stop Muggle-borns from taking their rightful place as students of Hogwarts if Minerva hadn't approached her.

No, Hermione would keep her eye on Hogwarts so she could stop any problems before they could come close to derailing any of her plans. And to do that Hermione would have to make sure an appropriate successor was found for her old professor—and from the looks of it, she would have to find one within a couple of years.

* * *

Draco gritted his teeth, inwardly wishing that those stupid witches would stop laughing and move on already. Fortunately, their shrill cries had alerted him to their presence, and he had been able to pull his companion to the side and cast a swift Disillusionment charm before those witches could turn down the corridor they usually met in. It would not do for them to be discovered. It had taken ages for Draco to finally procure a contact in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He wasn't about to do anything that would risk exposing his informant. Finally—finally!—they left, squealing about how their break was nigh over. 

With a sigh of relief, Draco released the Disillusionment charm. "That was too close for comfort," he muttered.

"There's no comfort associated with being under someone else's Disillusionment charm. That was quite unnecessary, I might add," said the wizard who had become his best source for information within the Ministry. Glenn Chambers was all together unremarkable. Brown hair, brown eyes, and of average height, he didn't have a single feature that leapt out and caught one's attention. One would be hard pressed to remember meeting the wizard. However behind that mundane façade was a sharp intellect honed by the years the wizard spent in Ravenclaw.

Draco had tried approaching several other wizards who worked as Aurors, who all quickly sent him on his way, saying that they had nothing but curses for Death Eater scum. Chambers had initially done the same, but a week later, he had sent a message to Draco to set up a meeting. It was in that meeting that they had hammered out the details of their arrangement. In exchange for a sum of galleons that was to be sent directly to Chambers every month (rather than deposited in his Gringotts' account as that could be easily tracked), Chambers would keep Draco up to date about the current issues the Aurors were finding most pressing. It was understood by both of them that it was up to Chambers' discretion to tell Draco if he himself had become the focus of an Auror investigation.

"Not necessary, you say? How was I to bloody know that? You were the one who called me out here saying it was a matter of great importance," Draco said. "How important can it be if you're not worried about getting caught?"

"There are more ways to keeping something a secret than just hiding. You'd do well to remember that," Chambers replied. "But to get to the point, tell me, have you renewed any old acquaintances lately?"

Briefly, Malfoy thought of Granger and wondered if she counted as an old acquaintance. He didn't think so as they couldn't stand one another when they were in school. "You're hardly making sense," he settled on saying. "Is this your round-about way of telling me that I'm under investigation and should watch my back?"

"You're a Slytherin. I thought you lot always watched your own backs. And as for you being scrutinized…have you done anything? Are you plotting to kill Potter?"

"That's the first thing I think of every morning when I wake. How to rid the world of Potter."

His companion scowled at him. "Blast it, Malfoy! I'm not here for my health—"

"Spare me. While I won't be shedding any tears if Potter should die, I'm not about to do anything that would land me in Azkaban. My mother has suffered enough disappointments in her life already." Draco narrowed his eyes at the other wizard. "And I've not done anything so why would my name even be brought up?"

"Your name is the first one Potter mentions whenever any rumor of pure-blood plotting surfaces."

"I always thought he was rather bent. Someone needs to tell him to start lavishing his attentions elsewhere, where they'll be more welcomed."

Chambers snorted. "You haven't helped yourself one bit. There's plenty besides Potter who think that you might be involved who think you look good for any manner of plotting. There have been a couple of whispers about a new plot against Potter and his friend, though nothing really solid."

"And Potter's getting all worked up over that? Figures he would be the sort to jump at his own shadow. I would think that he was used to attempts on his life by now."

"Oh, he is used to that. But his friends being the target of this plot? That's sure to get him up in arms against you. Especially when word is that the ones in charge are the younger generation."

"I thought you had nothing solid," noted Draco.

"We don't. Or I should say, we didn't." He gave Draco an appraising look. "Tell me. What do you know about the Department of Mysteries?"

"Precious little. Everything they do is shrouded in secrecy."

"Have you heard about their attempts to divine the future?"

"Among other things, yes," Draco replied.

"Well, they have several…let's call them oracles for lack of a better word. They vary in accuracy when it comes to making predictions. Just yesterday, one of the more accurate yet stingy ones started making some noise. Seems like Potter's precious Granger has become the target of a new pure-blood movement. Said oracle wasn't able to name any names, just that the members aren't from the old bunch, which we've taken to mean they're from your set, not your parents. She doesn't know about it because she and Balthazar are always at odds, and she thinks the oracles are all nonsense anyway. You're lucky though that Potter is out of the country, otherwise he'd be beating in your door, despite the fact that he wasn't assigned to the case."

"No shock there," said Draco. "Potter's always had it out for me. And might I add, of course it's someone my age. I don't think there are any older pure-bloods left who have the stomach for trying again. They've finally learned better. And there was much grumbling amongst the younger set after the marriage law was passed about us having to pay for the mistakes of our elders." He furrowed his brow. "For my part, I've made it clear that I have no interest in fighting battles that have already been lost twice over."

"Funny that you should say that. Because you haven't."

"Is that so?" Draco considered the wizard in front of him. There was something that he wasn't saying. "What do you know that I don't?"

"You do recall that I'm under no obligation to tell you."

"Yes, I know."

"Good. Remember that when someone _does _approach you. Because it's bound to happen. It has escaped no one's notice that you have yet to comply with the terms of the marriage law."

"Please. I dare say that most pure-bloods haven't got around to complying with that damn law," Draco spat out.

"No, most haven't. However, the majority have already tried to find a bride, although their luck has varied. The Ministry understands that it may take a while to woo a witch," said Chambers.

"I guess I should be grateful that the Ministry hasn't set a timetable on when you should get around to asking a witch."

"If I were you, I'd follow my peers and start looking. It only makes you seem more suspicious that you already are by trying to pretend that law doesn't exist," said Chambers.

"Smashing idea there," Draco said sarcastically. It was about time he made his exit as he was supposed to meet Granger soon. "Let me just take a stroll and find a suitable witch. You'll be reading about us in the papers tomorrow, I wager."

"There are times when I think no amount of money is worth this abuse," grumbled Chambers. "But no matter. Just remember that I've tried to warn you here. And remember any information you can give me about what we've just talked about…well, it benefits us both the sooner I can get my next promotion."

"I'll keep that in mind," he told Chambers. "Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to take that stroll." The other wizard shook his head as Draco walked away. Little did he know that Draco wasn't having him on.

* * *

**Author's note**: Thanks for reading this far. Please review to let me know what you thought of this chapter. Thanks. 

And thanks as well to everyone who reviewed the first chapter. I appreciate it so much.


	3. Shoot the Moon

**Ambition's End: Shoot the Moon**

**Disclaimer:** None of these characters are mine.

* * *

Draco headed towards the first floor of the Ministry headquarters. A small office had been set up there to act as a registry for pure-bloods complying with the marriage law. Once a wizard had found a witch to be his bride, the couple was required to inform the Ministry of the happy news by visiting that new office. From what Draco gathered, only the most basic of information would be recorded. Their names would be taken down, and the witch's ancestry would be double-checked. They would also have to set an actual date for the wedding to take place. The law was silent as to how long they had to actually go through with the marriage, but the Ministry had been requiring the wedding occur within the year. Draco didn't know what happened to those wizards whose weddings didn't go off as planned, but he didn't intend to be the first one to find out. He had every intention of marrying the witch. Granger was only passably attractive at best, but her reputation as a goody-goody was impeccable. Draco knew that one of the greatest advantages he could give his future children was that of being able to refer to Potter as their Uncle Harry, as much as that notion made his stomach turn. Between Granger's connections with Potter and his own within pure-blood society, the Malfoy name would once more become a force to be reckoned with. 

Granger was waiting for him outside the office as her letter had promised. She sat stiffly on a nearby bench, her shoulders tense as she tried her best to ignore the stares of those passing by. Draco smiled at the sight. Already whispers were starting about who the famous Muggle-born witch was meeting here. People were beginning to slow down, trying to linger long enough to catch a glimpse of the person she was waiting for and to see if she entered the registry office with him. It was drilled into Draco long ago that people dearly loved to watch a show.

Well, he decided, he was going to give them a show they would not soon forget. Besides, while theirs was not a love match, there were added benefits to making the rest of the world think it was. For one, it would further distance him from the philosophy of the Death Eaters. For another, it would drive Granger mad to have to pretend that she fancied him.

Planting a besotted look on his face, he descended upon Granger. "Darling!" he cried out. "Am I late? Have you been waiting long?" He offered his hand to Granger, who looked as though she almost bit off her tongue. Gleefully, he pulled her to her feet as everyone else stopped what they were doing to watch the scene unfolding before them.

"No, you're not late," said Granger, finally finding her tongue. "You're here early, in fact."

"That's because I couldn't wait to see you again, and I am happy to see you feel the same way, my dear," he said. He lowered his voice slightly, but it remained loud enough for everyone to hear. "I couldn't stop thinking of you after everything that happened last night, love. What's between us is special, and you've made me the happiest man on earth."

She looked as though she was going to be sick. "Shall we go in?" she asked.

"Of course, my love." He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. "Do try and look happy," he whispered into her ear. She offered him a weak smile, still looking a bit nauseous. It took all of Draco's control not to smirk. He was willing to bet there were going to be witches speculating as to her condition, and that was going to drive his lovely bride nuts. That thought alone made him want to sing.

* * *

Hermione rubbed her temples as she exited the lift. The afternoon had been very trying indeed. She had to grit her teeth the entire time that Malfoy was with her as he had decided to play the part of a lovesick fool for Merlin only knew what reason. To make matters worse, he had insisted that she do the same, and it had taken all of her self-control not to be sick then and there. She didn't know who he thought they would fool. Hermione doubted that even the most gullible of witches would think that she and Malfoy had become completely besotted with each other. She could see why he would want to make the world seem as though they had genuinely fallen in love, and certainly there were advantages for her as well, but it was simply out of character for either of them to be a fool for love. 

Then there was the actual interview process. The witch who they had spoken with couldn't get her small mind wrapped around the fact that Hermione Granger had actually accepted Draco Malfoy. Instead, she wound up asking Hermione again and again if she was informed that she could refuse Malfoy's request, forgetting that it had been because of Hermione that the right of refusal had even been incorporated into the damn law in the first place. It was enough to make Hermione want to hex the daft bint into oblivion. Finally, the idiot had stopped repeating herself after Malfoy suggested that she send for the Aurors if she thought that Hermione was bewitched.

On the down side, the idiot actually did send for a pair of Aurors. Thankfully, not anyone she knew, otherwise Hermione would still be down there trying to deal with all that, but it wasn't much fun regardless. She had felt like kicking the one who had suggested that Malfoy might have her under the _Imperious_ curse. Clearly he didn't know who he was dealing with. It was a wonder that he had actually become an Auror; it spoke volumes as to the shortages in that department, she supposed. Hermione had told that idiot what she thought of that notion then and there.

She had felt better after that. It always felt good to unleash her rather acerbic wit upon someone who so richly deserved it. That was when Malfoy had to go and spoil that feeling by announcing their wedding would take place in three months. When she had protested that it was hardly enough time for her to plan her dream wedding, he had responded that he would be there and that alone should be enough to make it the wedding of her dreams. While saying that, he had shot her a look that told her to behave or else. He had proceeded to let her know that his mother wanted to meet with her this Saturday so they could start planning the happy event. It was only the knowledge that she would soon be able to use the outrageous time schedule he had set along with his mother against him that had allowed her to keep her mouth shut.

It irked Hermione greatly to let him keep thinking that this all was his idea when she had orchestrated it completely. But she had smiled and complied with his wishes because making him think that was the whole point. She reminded herself that it would be worth it in the end. Any annoyance that he might bring into her life would be worth gaining the political connections she needed to mold the Wizarding World into a better place.

Hermione stopped in front of her door, fishing in her purse for her keys. One of these days she had to come up with a spell that would prevent them from always falling to the bottom of her purse. She had continued to live in the Muggle part of London, even though most of her friends lived in the Wizarding half. That was a deliberate choice on her part. For one, it was much easier to find a nice flat in the Muggle half. Places in the Wizarding half were more expensive because there were often elaborate charms put upon them so that residents could go about their daily lives using magic without any Muggles noticing. For another, Hermione liked the extra privacy she was afforded by living farther away from her old schoolmates. She only allowed a handful of people the privilege of being able to Apparate into her flat, so the rest of them had to navigate Muggle London if they wanted to bother her for something. That worked out very well for her purposes. She rarely had unwanted visitors.

As Hermione entered her flat, the sound of the telly emanated from her living room. She suppressed a groan. Of the few people allowed past the anti-Apparation wards, there were none that she particularly wanted to talk to tonight. She had looked forward to a nice, long soak, but her instincts were telling her that it wasn't going to happen. Straightening her back, she walked down the hallway and into her living room. On her sofa sat Katie Bell. That was just perfect; perhaps even more than her best friends, Katie would require delicate handling. The other witch promptly got up on her feet and turned off the telly upon Hermione's entrance.

"Hello Katie," Hermione said evenly. "How are you?"

Katie narrowed her eyes at Hermione. "As well as can be expected," she replied.

That sounded ominous. It was obvious that Katie had heard some news that hadn't pleased her, and Hermione knew what that piece of news was about. She decided to get things over with and just let the other witch shout at her. She owed her that much. "So I take it you've heard, haven't you," she said softly.

"Half of bloody London has heard by now how you were carrying on with Draco fucking Malfoy in the damn Ministry itself."

"Not Harry or Ron though," Hermione noted.

"You're lucky there. If they weren't away on a mission, they would've been waiting here with me," Katie spat out. "As it is, I'm slightly surprised that they didn't hear it from someone and managed to get a bit of leave to deal with this situation."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "There is no situation for them to deal with, so it's just as well that they're not here." She sighed. "Just say it, Katie. I know there's—"

"How much?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. What I want to know is how much? How many galleons did he have to throw your way before you said yes?"

"Katie, you're not making any sense here," Hermione protested. She held up both hands and took a couple steps back away from Katie. She had a suspicion what was behind the other witch's thought process, given their past history, but she wanted to hear Katie say it before reacting.

"Like hell you don't know what I'm talking about!" Katie drew her wand, and for a moment, Hermione thought that she would have to do the same to defend herself. "Do I have to show you my memory? Of back when Marcus asked me? Have you really forgotten what you said back then?"

"I've not forgotten," Hermione told her. "Not one bit. How could I? Not when you made such a sacrifice for us all."

"You could've fooled me. I told him no, Hermione, because saying yes would have made it seemed like a witch could be bribed into being a bride. I was on the verge of writing him back to tell him yes, yes, yes! But then you dropped in. You dropped in with such a sad face, and you told me how the other side saw it, and you didn't ask me to do it, but I bloody well knew what I had to do then. I had to tell him no! To prove a stupid point! And what for, if the most famous Muggle-born witch of them all is going to let herself be bought?" Katie was shaking now. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, and she looked like a complete mess. "So I thought I had the right to know. How much? What did it take for you to agree to become a whore?"

"That's not how it is." Hermione hung her head, her mind thinking of and discarding different explanations to give the other witch. Katie was too hostile at the moment for Hermione to draw her wand. That might start a duel that Hermione didn't want, even though she was certain she would win. She counted Katie as a friend, and she didn't want to hurt the other witch if it wasn't necessary.

"Don't try that. You might have been able to fool those watching at the Ministry, but I know you better than that. You wouldn't marry one of them for anything. That was one of the reasons you opposed my match with Marcus from the start. If I had known then, what I know now…how you're such a damn hypocrite, I would—" Katie stopped there, as though she wasn't able to find the words to properly express herself. She settled for glaring at Hermione while shaking her head. However, her speech had given Hermione enough time to decide how best to deal with her.

"I had a discussion with Malfoy yesterday." Hermione raised her head to look Katie straight in the eyes. She carefully pitched her voice to make it sound as though she was on the edge of breaking down herself. "About what the ramifications would be if I refused his formal offer today."

"Ramifications?" Katie repeated. "He would share the same fate as Marcus. He would be more deserving of it as well."

"Perhaps," said Hermione. "But perhaps not. The Malfoys are better connected in society than the Flints. They have lost a lot of their former status, but they still have many friends. Friends who wouldn't want to see their line die out."

"I still don't follow you here. Malfoy would just have to ask another witch once he got over the razing he'd get in the press."

"He wouldn't have to do that. The pure-bloods have been on edge ever since the end of the war. If I had told him no, that would have been all the fuel needed to spur them to take back our right of refusal," said Hermione. "Malfoy told me I could either say yes now or be made to say yes later. If I humiliated him and said no, he would spare no expense in getting that section of the law repealed. So I went with now. Because maybe…maybe if everyone thinks that he was able to get a Muggle-born to say yes…maybe they won't take it back."

"Hermione….I'm sorry," Katie stated softly.

"Oh! I am too!" Hermione flung her arms around the taller witch and started to shed tears upon her shoulder.

Katie awkwardly patted her on the back. "Oh Hermione. I'm so sorry. I should've trusted you," she said. "But you don't have to do this! Write back to him now and tell him you've made a mistake and changed your mind!"

"I can't do that."

"Yes, you can. We can fight them on this, Hermione. I think we can—"

Hermione lifted her head up from Katie's shoulder. "No, Katie. I've made up my mind. I've promised Malfoy I would marry him, and I will keep that promise." She took a deep breath. "No, don't try to convince me otherwise. Just listen."

Hermione stepped away and started to pace back and forth in front of the sofa. "What you're suggesting…that was my first thought. I was going to thank him for the warning and contact everyone to let them know we have another fight on our hands. But then I thought about it. I've already fucked this up so much. If I had only kept a closer eye on Harry…if I only was able to stop the Prophet from knowing you had refused Flint…I have so many if onlys…things would have been better." Hermione stopped in her pacing directly in front of her friend. "So I will do this. It's the least I can do."

"You don't have to, you know. All of us would do anything to help you."

"I know. And that makes it better, in its own way." Hermione stepped forward to clutch Katie's hands in hers to make the other witch believe that she was truly sincere. "Please let me do this. Don't let the boys know why I've made this choice. This is something I must do."

"You're going to have to tell them something. They're not going to accept this lying down."

"I know," Hermione said resolutely. "I'll tell them a version of the truth. That Malfoy and I have agreed to do this in order to improve relations between them and us. That we're trying to set an example for everyone else to follow. And you know what? I think that's a reason I can live with."

"Are you certain?"

Hermione nodded her head with conviction. "I am. The more I think about it, the more it makes sense. We've let bitterness and anger linger for too long. We need to take a step away from all that. This marriage can help with that, and if that's the way it is…I'll be happy. Really."

"Fine," said Katie, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "If that's what you really want…then I'll keep your secret for you."

"Wand oath?" Hermione asked and drew her wand. She wanted the extra assurance a formal promise would give.

"Yes, just like you did for me back then." As Katie recited her promise, Hermione reflected that it was good that she could trust the older witch. Katie was a Gryffindor to the core, and she would not betray what Hermione had told her in confidence. Though Hermione doubted Katie would keep her promise if she knew that it was Hermione who had tipped off the Daily Prophet all those months ago, having written a note to inform them of Flint's impending rejection even before she had convinced Katie of the need to do so. It was troubling, but the other witch still seemed attached to her former beau. The more pragmatic side of Hermione urged her to use a memory charm on Katie so the other witch could never reveal anything Hermione didn't want publicly known, but she couldn't bring herself to do that, especially knowing all the ways it could backfire to the detriment of her friend. Instead Hermione resolved to help Katie move on with her life. It was the least she could do for the other witch.

* * *

Malfoy Manor was grander than Hermione remembered. Narcissa Malfoy deserved to be commended for the outstanding work she had done on the place. It was hard for Hermione to reconcile her memories with what she saw now. Most of what Hermione remembered was the atmosphere and the taint of dark magic that had engulfed the place. She could still feel traces of dark magic. It had been used for so long and so often that Hermione doubted that there was anything outside of time itself that could remove that from the manor. However, those traces were no longer suffocating. 

Of course Hermione had to bite her tongue to not compliment Narcissa on what were the best changes to Malfoy Manor, in her opinion. She couldn't very well say, "_I loved what you've done to remodel this room. Getting rid of that madwoman who was overly fond of _Crucio_—great idea! It really lightens up the place!"_ to the sister of that madwoman. A remark such as _"Changing the color scheme of this room has worked wonders. Why I can almost forget you used to torture prisoners day and night here! You can't even see the bloodstains any more now that you've painted the walls red"_ would probably only cause all three Malfoys to turn their wands on her. While Hermione knew she was good, she wasn't that good, so she held back from such sarcastic comments. So she took the advice her mother had given to her so long ago; since she couldn't say anything nice, she said nothing at all. The blonde witch didn't seem to mind her silence as she gave Hermione the guided tour. Instead, she looked pleased that she was able to rattle on about the changes she had made without any interruptions. Hermione supposed Narcissa didn't often have a chance to show off the work she had done, if the looks the male Malfoys were exchanging were anything to go by. That was the most amusing part of the whole ordeal. Both Lucius and Draco Malfoy looked as though they dearly wanted to be anywhere but here. It was a wonder that neither of them had come up with an excuse to leave the two women behind.

The men had finally got their much longed for respite when the tour turned to the gardens. Narcissa had suggested that the two of them had more pressing matters to attend to, her tone clearly one of dismissal. The wizards had fled, and for the first time since arriving at Malfoy Manor, Hermione felt like laughing.

That feeling was soon dispelled when her hostess next opened her mouth.

"Finally! I grew tired of the two of them following us around. I have very much been looking forward to having a chat with you, Miss Granger, without anyone else listening in," Narcissa Malfoy stated pleasantly. She glided ahead of Hermione, one hand absently her holding her robes while the other caressed a flower as she passed it by.

Hermione turned questioning eyes on the blonde woman. All morning long, Narcissa had dutifully played the part of hostess, though her words were often layered with double-meanings that were meant as barbs against her guest. Hermione wondered if she would speak more directly now that they were alone.

"Truthfully, I did not know what to expect from a Mudblood such as yourself. Oh, make no mistake, Miss Granger. I do not like you," Narcissa purred as Hermione fought to keep a grip on her temper. "I very much despise you and your kind. The thought of my son having to lower himself to…to be with…oh!" She shuddered.

"But alas! The world has changed, and I must bow before that change." Narcissa twirled around girlishly, her robes swirling about her, and faced Hermione.

"And what does acceptance of that change constitute exactly?" Hermione asked warily.

"A truce between you and me," the blonde promptly answered. "Once you marry my son, I shall not say a word against your regrettable lack of blood purity. In return, you shall not teach your children to hate me or my husband. I expect that we will be able to tolerate one another on those occasions when it is impossible for us to avoid meeting." Narcissa twitched her nose, and Hermione wondered if that was a clue to let her know that she would not like what the older witch had to say next.

"Yes, we will be able to live together tolerably well. So long as you never forget who is in charge here at the manor."

Hermione inclined her head. "That I can do. I will require in return that you will do the same when you visit me in my home."

Narcissa laughed prettily. "Forgive me, my dear! But you seem to be laboring under the assumption that you won't be living at the manor."

"Whatever makes you think that I will?" Hermione asked quietly. She knew perfectly well that Malfoy's parents were expecting them to reside at the manor. Hermione would rather spend her energies furthering her agenda, rather than dealing with an irate mother-in-law, so she had to call that into question. If she didn't say a thing, she would wind up living at Malfoy Manor, a fate she wanted to avoid at all costs.

"Only centuries of tradition. As heir, Draco will make his home at the Manor. You, as his wife, will reside with him." The blonde witch looked in askance at Hermione and a reproving moue covered her face. "I am not sure what my son may have told you, but you will not be keeping separate residences. It simply isn't done, my dear. You will be living together."

Hermione lifted her chin. She wasn't about to back down. "What agreements I have with your son is between the two of us. You'll be well advised to mind your own business. I assure you we will not be living here."

Narcissa said sharply, "My son _is _my business. But if you wish to delude yourself in thinking that you can convince him to take your side over that of his beloved mother's, be my guest. Far be it for me to strip an ignorant Mudblood—oh I'm sorry, I meant Muggle-born—of her fantasies." The two of them stared at each other for a long minute, before Narcissa turned around to set off in a different direction.

"I simply must show you the new fountain I had installed," she said, changing subjects as easily as she changed directions. "The old one was a lost cause. I don't know who was responsible for destroying it, but they did me a favor, really. The old one was so out of fashion."

Hermione trailed behind Narcissa, mentally girding herself for the next attack she was planning about a topic that would raise the older witch's interest. It was time to take more control of their tête-à-tête, rather than let her hostess prattle on at will. Hermione knew what she wanted from this conversation, and it was time to get it. "It really is lovely here," she said slowly. "I hope to find some place just like this to host the reception."

"I think so too," the blonde witch said giddily, slowing down so she was walking side by side with Hermione instead of in the lead. She beamed as she went on to say, "Men don't think about such things, but it would be so fitting for me to unveil all the changes here by hosting my son's wedding reception at the Manor."

"Oh well, I wasn't talking about that, I assure you," Hermione informed her. "That will be a small, intimate affair, not the gala this place deserves, seeing how I don't plan on inviting many guests to the wedding."

The elegant blonde looked sideways at her. "What exactly do you mean by small?" she asked.

"I mean small." Hermione allowed a smile to grace her lips.

"There's small, and then there's _small_. Can you not give more clarification? I have my doubts about whether my definition of small is the same as yours."

"I would very much like to only have around twenty or twenty-five guests attend." The horrified gasp that sounded right beside her told her what the other woman thought of that. For the first time today, Hermione had gained control of the conversation. Now that she had it, she would not relinquish that hold so easily. "But that is impossible, I fear. I can trim my guest list to that amount easily, but that would leave none for Draco's. So double that amount then—forty would be best, fifty at the very most."

"Fifty?" The shocked tone to Narcissa's voice was no act, of that Hermione was sure. "Fifty? I'm sorry, but are you serious? Fifty isn't small, it's…it's…" She trailed off, at a loss for words.

"Infinitesimal?" Hermione suggested. "Though I have never had the luck to attend any of your events, from what I have heard, you tend to do things on a much larger scale." She shrugged her shoulders. "I am not opposed to the idea of a larger wedding, but I am afraid it simply cannot be done."

"No, that is where you are mistaken. Having a wedding so small is what cannot be done. I could never whittle down my guest list to so insignificant a number. You must be mad to even make such a suggestion."

"Me? Mad? Pin any accusations of madness on your son. Did he not tell you that he has decided that we are to be wed in three months time?" That remark was rewarded by the rare sight of Narcissa's jaw becoming unhinged.

"Three months? That's—"

"Barely enough time as it is to plan for the small event that I have described," Hermione finished for her.

"I wouldn't say that. It will not be an easy thing to do, but if you put all your time and effort into it…oh wait! That's right. You work, don't you, dear?" Narcissa snapped her fingers as she made that remark. "I can see why you think it is impossible to arrange for a wedding of a proper size. If that's the case, you may leave all the preparations to me. I would happy to do this for my son."

"No, I don't think I'll do that," Hermione said. There was no way she was going to let Malfoy's mother be in charge of planning her wedding. Hermione could only imagine what a catastrophe that would be. Undoubtedly, her parents' invitations would get lost and the Weasleys would be refused entrance. Hermione wondered what sort of fool did the blonde witch make her out to be. "You only get married once, so I want to make sure personally that everything is as perfect as can be."

"Don't be stubborn about this. I had my mother help—"

"And I shall have mine help me," Hermione said resolutely. It was time to end this thread of conversation. Narcissa would talk with her son, who would then talk to Hermione. Then Hermione would have to prove her worth and wring a compromise out of him. The wedding of his mother's dreams in exchange for them not living with his parents. Hermione was willing to sacrifice a short term victory in favor of the long term. Such a confrontation would also glean her much information about what made her fiancé tick.

"If you wish to help me," Hermione continued on with a note of finality in her voice, "talk with your son. If I am given more time, perhaps it will be feasible to integrate some of the suggestions that you surely have."

Narcissa merely nodded her head. The set of her shoulders made it clear that she would be having a few words with her son within a short span of time.

* * *

That evening, Draco was summoned to visit his mother in her private sitting room. Such a summons was in and of itself an event. As a boy, he had been called on time and time again to visit his father in his study to account for his actions. It was a rite of passage Draco undertook at the start of almost every summer while he attended Hogwarts. His father always had complaints about his performance at the school. Why did he allow Potter to beat him to the snitch again? Why didn't he have the best marks in the school? Did he like having Mudbloods getting the better of him? It was enough to make him scream that he was doing his best and that he doubted his father could do as well as him if placed in the same situation. Draco had never done so. While both his parents doted on him, an only child, he knew that obedience was required of him. Punishment would be fast to fall if he dared mouth off at his father. So Draco had endured those sessions, torn between wanting to defend himself and wishing that he could live up to all his father's expectations. Afterwards, Draco would be spoiled again with his father buying him anything that he wanted, but the entire summer the underlying tension would be that he had to do better next year. 

Draco could only remember being called to see his mother on one occasion, and that was after his fifth year. He had returned home from Hogwarts in a sorry state. She had gently rebuked him for not acting with more subtlety, reminding him that a poisoned quill killed as surely as a drawn sword. She had then cheered him up with the thought that any pain and humiliation he might have suffered was nothing compared to that which Potter felt when he lost his dear godfather due to his own stupidity. That had brightened his day, but all too soon, his Aunt Bella arrived along with that madman she called master, and everything went south from there.

He stopped that train of thought. He didn't like to remember those days when he was so worried that he was going to fail in the impossible task set before him and that his mother would pay the price for his failure. Draco swore that never again would he be placed in such a situation. Power was what he needed for that, and that was why he would marry Granger. The thought of how much influence she would bring into their union was a very seductive thought indeed.

Draco rapped sharply on his mother's door. Though she had summoned him, she would expect him to remember the manners she had drilled into him when he was young. His mother's gentle wit was sharp enough to make him wish that she would just have his father thrash him when she used it upon him. That was a notion far beyond Granger's sphere. She was a bossy little thing, used to leading Potty and Weasel around by their noses. She had no concept of how to manipulate men in a more restrained manner. She would find that she wasn't able to make him do what as she wished the way she was with those two fools.

"Come in," his mother's voice rang out, and he entered the room. His mother's sitting room was one of the few rooms that she left relatively unchanged. The carpet had been replaced, but overall the room remained the same with its motif of roses with swans charmed to fly amongst the blooms. It was a very comforting room, meant to soothe one into telling information that one had meant to withhold. Hence the reason was it was so portentous for him to be summoned here the same day that his mother had met with his fiancée for the first time. He wondered what Granger could have said to make his mother worry so.

Whatever it was, he was going to put a stop to it. He wasn't about to let her think that she would have any control in their relationship.

His mother was perched on the edge of the settee by the window. "Good evening, Draco," she greeted him as he took a seat at the armchair across from her.

"Hello, Mother. Is there something you wish to talk about?"

"It is a small thing," she said with a shrug of her shoulders. "But one best discussed between you and I, for I fear it would bore your father to death." She shook her head fondly. "I feel badly that I left you alone to deal with his complaints this afternoon, but I simply had to have a word alone with your chosen witch."

"I see," he said. He waited for his mother to continue.

"She's a …"

"A bloody annoying know-it-all with a shrill voice that grates on your nerves?"

"I was going to say the quintessential Gryffindor. Don't interrupt me, dear. You'll make me lose my train of thought."

"Sorry, Mother."

"No matter." His mother closed her eyes as she gathered her thoughts. "She's not much to look at but she's pretty enough, I suppose. Given your last comment, I take it you weren't drawn to her for her vivacious personality."

"Please. If I needed something bubbly and cheerful to light up my life, I would go and buy a puppy. A kitten, if I wanted something clawing and spiteful."

"Then why ever are you marrying her?"

"From what I understand, Mother, I have to marry someone. Because of that law—which Father helped pass, don't forget—I'm limited in my choices. Out of all of those choices, I've determined that Granger is the best, so I set about acquiring her."

"Is she under the illusion that you love her?" asked his mother.

"No, she understands our arrangement is one that mutually benefits the both of us."

"Is that so? I have heard many an interesting tale of the scene the two of you made in the Ministry the other day. I suppose that was an act you put on for the masses."

"Yes, of course. There is no avoiding the unrelenting curiosity a match such as ours will inspire in the public. There will be those who will try to put an unsavory light upon the whole affair. Making everyone believe that we have really, truly fallen in love will help counteract that," he explained.

"It will also make us become more acceptable to certain segments of society," his mother added. "Brilliantly played, my dear. Just what I would expect of you. However, I do have another question. Just what sort of compromises did you reach with the girl?"

"Compromises?"

"Yes. She seems to think that she won't be residing here at the manor, for one."

"Where else would we live?"

"That was exactly the point I made with her." His mother regarded him carefully and sighed. "You never discussed anything of the sort with her, did you?"

"No," he admitted. "I didn't think it necessary. Of course, we would live here."

"And I guess that you didn't talk about how often the two of you would meet before the wedding, what sort of things you will do together to make the public continue to believe you're in love…nothing about that sort of thing." It was a statement, not a question.

Draco hung his head. He hated to admit it—especially since it would disappoint his mother—but he didn't plan everything out as thoroughly as he should have. As soon as she mentioned it, he realized that he should have already come to an understanding about all these things with Granger, so she would know what to say when questions were asked of her. As it were, he was grateful that she wasn't enamored of being in the public eye so she hadn't made any public statements about the whole affair.

"I trust you will be taking care of all of this with all due haste."

"Yes, Mother."

"Good." A frown briefly crossed her face. "When you do that, please take care of the delusion she is currently under about having only three months to plan your wedding."

If there was any way he could make good his escape, Draco would take it. He hadn't thought about what his mother's reaction would be to the news that she only had a short amount of time to plan the wedding of her only son. Unfortunately, her expectant look froze him in his seat. Draco knew that she was waiting for him to agree to that as well. It was too bad that he couldn't.

"Actually, Mother, I can't believe that it slipped my mind. We are getting married in three months."

"Excuse me? I don't think I heard you right." It was also too bad that looks couldn't kill. Because if they could, that would certainly take care of the dilemma he was currently in.

"I rather think you did."

His mother heaved a sigh. She brought up her hands to massage her forehead as he waited for what she would say next. "I cannot believe this. I think I owe that girl an apology, and I hate the thought of owing a damn Muggle any sort of apology. But obviously I owe her one for having a fool of a son who likes to run the women in his life ragged for Merlin only knows what reason." Draco quailed in his seat when his mother lowered her hands to her waist, clenching them into small fists, as she leveled a fierce glare upon him. "No wonder why she didn't want any of my help planning the damn thing. She probably thinks that I put you up to it all along, and I have some dastardly plan to embarrass her and her family throughout." She tilted her head as she considered what she had just said. "Well, I did have some thoughts about embarrassing them, but I was really more concerned with making sure they are seated as far away from me as possible."

She held up her hand, palm facing him, stopping him before he could try to apologize to her. "Don't say another word. I am not interested in anything you might say, but rather, what you will do. When you see your fiancée next, you will express regret for not thinking properly when you set the wedding date. You will gently suggest that I might be able to help her, and in any case, you offer any aid that she might be willing to accept from you. Just nod your head, darling, I still don't want to hear you speak."

Draco nodded his head fervently.

"Good. And one last piece of advice for you. Do be careful when you go to bargain with her."

"Don't worry, Mother. I know I'll be able to get my way."

"I don't recall asking for you to say anything. Listen Draco, and listen well. Be careful when you deal with her. I do not know under what circumstances you got her to agree to marry you. I do not really want to know. However…." Her voice trailed off as she carefully chose her words. "I was a little too quick to label her the quintessential Gryffindor. She does not protest enough. That's dangerous because that means she's thinking ahead. She knows that eventually you will confer with her to hammer out the details of your arrangement. So be careful when you next speak with her, whenever you speak with her."

"Yes, Mother," Draco said simply. He refrained from rolling his eyes. He loved his mum, but she was dead wrong about Granger. If Granger was plotting anything, it was how to get out of their bargain with her secret still intact.

* * *

**Author's note:** This is my last update for the year. Hopefully, I'll be updating on a more regular basis after the new year--that's one of my resolutions and I should be able to stick to it, considering I have the next several chapters already finished. Please review. I would love to hear what you thought of this chapter and about this fic in general, really I would. 

And thanks to hermdrayreturns, mirth, shat, Akira M, kaumi, misssweetsweet, Wudelfin, kazfeist, Beneeta, and Gentileschi for their reviews of the chapter. They were all very much appreciated.

* * *


	4. Arranging the Board

**Ambition's End: Arranging the Board**

**Disclaimer: **These characters still are not mine.

* * *

It was too early in the morning when Hermione awoke on Monday. The weekend had been long and horrid and utterly exhausting. She had been grateful that she didn't rate an invitation to stay for dinner at Malfoy Manor as she had enough of dealing with them after her little tête-à-tête with Narcissa in the gardens. She had spent the next day with her family, feeling slightly guilty that she hadn't taken the time to tell her parents her news before then. That had been uncomfortable, to say the least. Both her mum and her dad had been very disappointed to hear that she was marrying a wizard. Dinner had become a rather stilted affair after she had announced her news, and she had hardly eaten a thing due to all the tension at the table. Hermione had long suspected that they were hoping she would settle on a nice Muggle boy who would help them all reconnect as a family. While her mother had asked that she bring Malfoy over one night so they could meet him, Hermione sensed that neither of them was actually enthusiastic about the matter. Rather they both seemed resigned to the fact that their daughter's upcoming nuptials would be the nail in the coffin for their hopes of her returning to the world they knew. 

After she had finally arrived back home last night, Hermione had just enough energy to take a bath before falling into bed. She had fallen asleep while fretting over her parents. They had grown apart over the years. Hermione knew that her parents didn't feel very comfortable or safe when visiting the Wizarding World, after they got over their initial rush of curiosity about it. That was one of the things that Hermione wanted to change; she hated how there were those who thought her parents were less than humans simply because they couldn't use magic. It wasn't any wonder that many Muggle-borns felt removed from their parents the more and more integrated they became with the Wizarding World. That had to end, and Hermione had long planned to be the harbinger of such change. She hadn't slept well at all because of such thoughts, and when the smell of eggs woke her up, what she wanted to do was roll over and stuff her pillow over her head so the food wouldn't be so much of a temptation.

However, the aroma of eggs was soon joined by the greasy tang of bacon, and Hermione willed herself to get up and out of bed so she could address the problems of the day. She pulled on a dressing gown and made her way to her kitchen. There was only one person who felt at home enough to start using her Muggle kitchen after Apparating into her flat without any prior plans. Harry, and Ron by extension, weren't due back for a couple of days, but they must have finished their mission early. Unquestionably they too had heard the news and so had decided to confront her first thing. She supposed she should be grateful that they hadn't woken her up. As poor as her sleep had been, it was better than no sleep.

"Good morning, Harry. Good morning, Ron," Hermione said as she walked into the kitchen. Harry was busy cooking the sort of fried breakfast that she usually didn't bother with as it took up too much time, and she could use that time for something else. Ron was in the midst of setting the table, which already had a plate of toast and a pot of tea ready to go in the center.

"Good morning, Hermione," they chorused in response. The two wizards then exchanged a glance. Hermione sat herself down at the table, knowing what was to come.

"She doesn't look like she's under the influence of _Imperious_ or the like," Ron commented.

"Fine. I'll give you that. But that doesn't mean that she hasn't been the victim of a love potion. _Amortentia _perhaps?"

Hermione grinned at the two of them. Some things never changed. That was a comforting thought; no matter what might happen, Harry and Ron would be there to help her out whenever they thought she needed their help. Of course, she didn't need their help in these circumstances so she was going to have to make them see that. That wouldn't be too hard a task.

"I take it you heard the news then," Hermione said airily. She speared a piece of toast and put it on the plate Ron had placed before her only moments before. She smeared a generous portion of jam on it and then took a bite.

"When was the last time you ate?" Harry asked as he put the last of the eggs on a platter. He handed the platter off to Ron, who took it to the table and then sat down. "And yes, we heard. We got in last night—"

"A bit ahead of schedule. Everything went all right? Or did something else come up?" Hermione interjected.

"Yes, everything's fine. Aside from the fact that as soon as I get back, I'm besieged with owls telling me all the latest gossip about you and how you've been bloody impossible to reach about the whole thing," Harry said forcefully. "Not exactly the sort of happy homecoming I was looking forward to."

"I'm sorry," said Hermione. It seemed that all she did these last few days was apologize to everyone who found out about her betrothal. That was getting to be tiring, but she reminded herself of all the things she would be able to do because of it. "I didn't want you to find out that way. I was planning on meeting you when you got back. I was actually hoping to be waiting for you so you could hear it from me first, but you're early so I didn't get that chance."

"You could've owled us," Harry said reproachfully. "Why did I bother to wrangle a promise that any urgent owls from you will be sent on to us no matter what if you don't plan to use it?"

"Your mission was more important," she replied reasonably. "I didn't want you to worry—or worse, come back early without completing it."

"That sounds like the Hermione I know and love," Ron said. "Relax, Harry. She was going to tell us."

The bacon now well done, Harry put it on a plate and then walked over to the table with it. He set it down on the table harshly. "I'm sorry," he said, pulling out a chair and sitting down. "I don't see how the witch I see before me can be the Hermione I know and love when she hasn't started begging me for my help in getting her out of the mess she's in."

"There's that, I suppose," said Ron. "I don't think that she thinks that she's in any sort of mess."

"No, I don't," agreed Hermione. She took put some eggs and bacon on her plate beside the toast.

"Still don't think that she has been dosed with a love potion?" Harry grumbled.

Ron rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "No, I don't. Because I can't see Hermione not recognizing either the smell or the after-taste or something about any love potion, and then getting the help she needs."

"Thank you, Ron."

"Maybe it's something in the water," Harry muttered to himself. Hermione sighed at that remark. There were times when Harry could be a bit of a prick. He hadn't even bothered to ask her yet for her reasons.

"Maybe you should ask her why she agreed to marry the git," said Ron around a mouthful of what looked to be bacon. Hermione smiled graciously at him. It had taken ages for her to get it through his head that she always had a reason for everything she did. She had taught him through trial and error to ask her why she was doing something if it didn't make any sense to him. If she couldn't supply a reason, then he was to start worrying about her.

"I don't know about that. Does she have a reason that will explain this?"

"Of course," said Hermione at the same time as Ron. The two grinned at each other. Hermione gestured for Ron to continue with his explanation.

"Oh, she has a reason. Hermione has a reason for everything," explained Ron. "Mind you, it's not always a good reason and then it's bloody hard to get her to see sense, but she always has some sort of explanation up her sleeve. I'm a bit surprised you haven't figured that one out yet."

Hermione held back a smirk. That would be because Harry was always more trusting of her than Ron so she didn't bother to beat into his head the fact that she never did anything without having some motive in mind. Neither of them needed to know all the effort she had put forth in learning all their habits and then in making allowances for those habits.

"Okay. So please tell me, Hermione. What harebrained excuse do you have for not telling Malfoy where to stick his damn proposal?"

"To save the world," she replied jauntily. She crammed a large bite of toast into her mouth. She didn't want their conversation to turn too serious too fast, so she thought it best to play it a bit loosely for now.

"That's a bit more loony than most of her explanations," Ron grumbled. "I swear Harry, she's having you on. She's probably also doing this to make me look bad."

"How did you know?"

"I don't know why but you seem to take much pleasure in making me look bad."

"You needn't bother to do that, Hermione," Harry said. "He can do that on his own."

"Too right that," agreed Hermione.

"Remind me why I'm still friends with the both of you."

"Because there's no one else who will have you," Hermione answered. She took note of the brief flicker of fear that crossed Ron's face. One of Ron's weak points was that he still nursed an inferiority complex, even after all that he had done, and he couldn't convince himself completely that people wanted to associate with him outside of the fact that he was friends with the great Harry Potter. It was part of the reason why he hadn't had any successful relationships after Hermione had called it off. She wished she could help Ron, but there wasn't much she could to do counteract his living for years under the impression that he had to prove himself worthy, first to his family and then to his friends. That was something Ron would have to figure out how to deal with on his own. Until he did, Hermione would keep in mind his insecurity whenever she had to influence him.

"Don't look so glum," she told him softly. She punched his shoulder. "I'm just trying to keep the mood light. You know how prone Harry is to brooding whenever he thinks something's wrong."

"That's not nice, Hermione," Harry told her sternly.

"True though," Ron said, his spirits lifted by Hermione's words. "He does have a tendency to go through a gloom and doom phase when he worries, doesn't he. At least you don't have that problem with me."

"That's because you're not the sort to worry about anything," Harry shot back. "And we're getting off track here. We didn't come here to talk about mine or Ron's personal failings. We came here to see what we need to do to get Hermione out of the situation she's found herself in."

"Absolutely nothing."

"I'm not going to take that as a response."

"I'm sorry," Hermione apologized again. She softened her voice and cast her eyes to the side. "I should have warned you, but I didn't want either of you to convince me that I shouldn't do this. That answer I first gave you—to save the world—it wasn't entirely in jest."

"What do you mean?" Harry moved his chair closer to Hermione's. Reaching out a hand, he lifted up her chin so that her eyes met his. "Hermione. Tell me. What is it?"

She batted his hand away and looked off to the side. "Mind you, as far as I know, there's no sort of plot in the mix against you or the Ministry or against Muggle-borns in general. But in case you haven't noticed, things aren't going well. There's this enormous chasm that persists between them and us."

"That's their fault, not ours," asserted Harry.

"Yeah, we've tried to reach out to them," Ron agreed.

"Yes, I know that we've made our efforts, but looking back, I can see how those efforts might have seemed insincere. But what I was going to say is that there's still a large gap between us. I think Malfoy has noticed it too. There are some people who won't even acknowledge him when he's out and about." She lifted her head up and met his stare, making her eyes appear wide with sincerity. "So when he came to me with his proposal, it was with the idea that we would be setting an example for everyone. If the two of us could mend our differences in such a drastic manner, then no one else could have an excuse for not trying to get along better."

"Is that it?" Harry asked.

"Yes."

"I won't allow it." He gritted his teeth together. Apparently he was going to be stubborn about this.

"Excuse me?"

"I said I won't allow it. I won't let you throw your life away because you've been taken with a fool notion that you'll be making the world a better place by marrying Malfoy. You're better than he is. You deserve so much better than him. I won't let you do this."

"I can't believe you just said that." Hermione allowed a note of revulsion to creep into her voice. "I never thought I would hear something like that coming from you."

"What?" Harry stood up. Hermione followed suit.

"You heard me." She matched Harry glare for glare.

"Maybe it's time we should take a break from this," Ron said hesitantly.

"No Ron," Hermione said quickly before Harry could respond. "We'll have this out here and now. That's what you came over for, isn't it." She took a step towards to Harry. She was close enough to see beads of sweat starting to form on his forehead as he strived to hold his temper in check.

"Correct me if I'm wrong"—her tone implied that she knew perfectly well that she wasn't—"but didn't you once tell me how much you hated how certain people continued to make decisions for you because they thought they needed to keep you safe? Didn't you tell me that you thought you had the bloody right to make those decisions yourself because it was your own damn life? I think you did. So tell me, Harry. How is what you're doing now different from what was done to you then?"

"Because what you're planning is completely unnecessary," Harry pointed out swiftly.

"That's what you think." She sighed and stepped away from Harry. "I don't want to fight with you. I don't think you want to do that either. But Harry—I need you to understand. You don't have to accept my reasons. You merely have to accept my decision. I'm not a child. I haven't been one for a long time…almost as long as you, I imagine. So don't treat me as one."

"Hermione…I don't…that is…" Exasperated, Harry ran a hand through his hair, looking everything except at her.

She reached out to take his hand in hers. "I know. You have a bit of that hero complex going on still. That's why you became an Auror." She tilted her head and smiled lovingly at him. "Don't worry. This will work out. I know what I'm doing. I think this will help, just you wait and see."

He pulled his hand away from her. "This is a bad idea, Hermione."

"I don't think so. If I'm wrong, you will be the first person I'll floo."

"That would be something to see," Ron piped up. "Hermione admitting that she's wrong."

"It's not funny, Ron." Harry glowered in Ron's direction.

"I know. You're trying to be serious here. But Hermione's right." Ron waved his fork at his friends. "Go on. Sit down. Let's keep things light and enjoy breakfast. That's what you originally wanted to do, right Hermione? Because the two of you fighting over this…damn fool decision is what I think it is…it's not going to help anything."

"You're right, Ron," she said gratefully. She sank down back into her chair and then waited for Harry to do the same.

He fell back into his seat with a heavy sigh. "Is there anything I can do to change your mind?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"I thought you'd say that." He glanced over at Ron. "Don't worry. I know what you're going to say too." He looked down at the floor. "No, I'm not going to stop talking to Hermione or anything stupid like that."

"Good," said Ron. "Because even if she doesn't know it, we know this is a mistake. She's going to need both of us once she realizes that." He looked at Hermione out of the corner of his eyes. "So after breakfast, how about you and me talk about what we're going to do when Hermione gets around to making us all meet?"

A wicked grin appeared on Harry's face. "That sounds like the best idea I've heard today," he said.

"Doesn't it though?" Ron asked eagerly. "Few things sound better than breakfast this early in the morning but that does."

"I'm still here, you know, and I can hear every word you say." Hermione narrowed her eyes at her boys.

"We know that," Harry told her.

"That's part of the fun?" Hermione arched an eyebrow. "Fine. Make your plans. He was a right git to us while we were at Hogwarts, so anything you might do is well deserved. It's not as though anything I say will stop you anyway."

"Got that right," said Ron.

"She's a clever one, our Hermione is," noted Harry. "Though how she'll manage Malfoy, I do not know."

"I've managed you two for many a year," Hermione told him teasingly. "Compared to you, I can't see how Malfoy can be a challenge."

"I hope you're right," Harry said under his breath.

"Oh! One more thing," said Hermione quickly. "I would rather my reasons for marrying Malfoy stay between the three of us. I don't want everyone else to know." That was completely true. It was just as advantageous to her as it was to Malfoy to have the public believe that they were truly in love with one another.

"Wait," said Ron. "You want the whole world to think that you've fallen in love with that git. Because let me tell you, with the scene you put on in front of the Ministry, the current word is that the you are arse over tits in love with the bastard."

Hermione flushed. "That's not a bad thing. Think you two. If everyone knows that we're only marrying to set an example, what sort of example does that set? Not much of one, and people are likely to start speculating that we're getting married for some other reason. Let them think that I'm madly in love with him. That's all right. I've had worse things written about me. If that's what it takes to bring our sides together, then I'm willing to make that sacrifice."

"I hate it when she makes this much sense," Harry stated.

"You're telling me. Not that I think her reason for marrying him in the first place is very good," said Ron.

"Me too. But if you follow her thinking through, then it's very logical for her to want the world to believe that she's genuinely fond of the ferret." Harry sighed. "Blast! Fine Hermione. I still think it's a mistake, but we're your friends, so we'll do as you ask."

"Yes," added Ron. "We won't let anyone know your real reason for marrying Malfoy. I just really hope that everything will work out the way you have planned."

Hermione smiled beatifically at the two of them. "I'll do my best to make certain it will. Now let's talk about something else. Before all this talk of Malfoy puts you off your breakfast."

The wizards were only too eager to comply with that suggestion. Harry and Ron updated Hermione with what had gone on with their last mission. By the time they had finished telling her everything they were allowed to, the two of them were competing for who could yawn the most. She sent them off with a smile, telling them that they deserved to sleep for the rest of the day. An owl arrived for her as they were leaving. Hermione was going to deal with it after she got back from work, but she noticed the handwriting on the envelope was Malfoy's.

A quick scan of the letter's contents told her that Malfoy wanted to meet with her tonight to discuss their 'arrangement', to use his words. She had already planned for this contingency as she had practically goaded Narcissa Malfoy into pushing her son to straighten out a few things with Hermione. She walked into her living room to pen her reply, telling Malfoy they could meet tonight at her flat as she would prefer to meet some place private. She enclosed a portkey she had made for the occasion and sent her reply off. That task done, Hermione hurried off to work.

* * *

Hermione double-checked the address that Minerva had given her. It matched that of the house she stood before. Taking a deep breath, she raised her hand and rang the doorbell. 

A petite woman with reddish-blonde hair opened the door. "Hello," she said, smiling nervously. "Can I help you?"

"Ashley Oaks, I presume?" Hermione asked. She continued after the woman nodded her head. "My name is Hermione Granger. I've come here on behalf of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Your daughter should have received a letter from us—"

"We got that letter," the woman said tersely. "And we wrote back. We don't want anything to with any of you."

"Please, may I come in?" Hermione requested politely. "I get the feeling that we have a lot to talk about."

"We asked to be let alone. So no, you can't come in. Will you please just go away? I never—" Whatever she was going to say stuck in her throat as Hermione leveled a stern frown upon the woman.

"Mrs. Oaks," she began, "you seem like a reasonable sort of person. I doubt you want to cause a scene that will have your neighbors talking for days. And they will talk up a storm, I dare say, if chimney flips over suddenly. Or maybe your windows will become doors and your door will become a window. Perhaps you'll be besieged with birds or something worse. Now, may I come in? Or shall I start causing a scene?"

Trembling, Ashley stepped away from the door and let Hermione in. She led Hermione down a long hallway and into the back room of the house. She nervously watched as Hermione took a seat at the end of the sofa.

"Oh please do sit down," Hermione said genially. "It makes me nervous watching you. I'm not going to do anything to you."

"So long as I do what you say that is," Mrs. Oaks stated. She took the farthest seat away from Hermione.

"You don't mind if I call you by your first name, right?" She continued after the other woman nodded her head. "Thank you. Hogwarts sent a letter to your daughter Ayla because she has a special gift, Ashley. I know it is hard for you to understand but—"

"You think she's magic. I get that," the other woman bit out. "But you also think that's not worthy to keep a staff or a wand or whatever it is that you use. You think that she has dirty blood"—she spat out those two words—"and if we let her go, you'll wind up locking her up. Or worse."

Hermione hadn't quite known what to expect when she had first arrived as no one had ever heard of a Muggle responding to a Hogwarts letter. She had thought maybe the Oaks would have an attitude similar to that of the Dursleys in regards to magic. She didn't think that they would have any inkling about the sort of prejudice Muggle-borns faced in the Wizarding World.

"I'm afraid you're mistaken, Ashley," Hermione said gently. "I'm a Muggle-born myself. My parents are both dentists. I would never do anything to hurt your daughter or any other student at Hogwarts. I know all the professors there feel the same way."

Ashley clutched a hand to her chest. "So you're like Ayla, is that what you're saying? So you know then that—"

"Yes, I'm Muggle-born like she is. And I've never been locked up or anything worse that you might be imagining," Hermione lied glibly. She reasoned that her words were more true than false; she doubted that any Muggle could imagine something like the _Cruciatus_ Curse.

"You've been called names though, haven't you, because your parents are decent, hard-working people who don't result to doing magic tricks for a living?" Hermione couldn't dispute that. "I am sorry," said Ashley. "I am sorry your parents made you go through all of that. I'm positive they wouldn't have done that to you if they knew what was going to happen. I'm not going to do that to my daughter. I'm not going to let her go to a school that will mock her for something she can't control."

"Instead, you'll condemn her to a life of being a freak who doesn't fit in…who people avoid because bad things happen to those who upset her." Hermione was suddenly livid. She couldn't imagine how her life would have been if her parents hadn't let her go to Hogwarts. She hadn't fit in well at her primary school. Other children first started to tease her because she took her studies seriously. After enough of them felt the ire of her accidental magic, they soon began to leave her alone. That didn't stop them from talking about her, however, and pointing fingers at how much of a freak she was when they thought she didn't notice.

It had been a terribly lonely existence.

At Hogwarts, that had changed. She was still mocked for being a bit of a swot. Ron himself once drove her to tears with one of his comments. But she still fit in better there. She was able to make friends there after they got past her obsessive study habits. Hermione was infuriated that this stupid Muggle would keep her daughter from experiencing how it felt to belong for once in her life.

"Anywhere you go, there will be people who will mock you for your roots. If you're poor, they'll tease you because you're poor. If you're rich, then you're ridiculed for being a snotty, rich bastard who never had to work for a living. That's how people are. If you run away because of them then you let them win."

"How about running away because they'll do their best to kill you if you don't?" the Muggle woman asked. "I've heard about what has happened. How even the government itself is against children like my Ayla. I've heard about how they passed a law saying that children like Ayla—and like you, for heaven's sake—are criminals and should be sent to prison."

"That's not how it is," Hermione insisted. "There were some problems in the past, but they've all been taken care of."

"Have they brainwashed you? How can those problems be taken care of when the people who committed such sins—against you too—still remain free?"

Hermione wanted to point out that many of the very worst offenders, such as Umbridge, had been sent to Azkaban. Not all of them, but that was the price of peace. However, she knew that she wasn't going to get anywhere fast. While Hermione felt sorry for the little girl Ayla, there was a more pressing matter at hand.

It was obvious that someone had revealed the Wizarding World and its history to these Muggles. And whoever that someone was, they had left out all of the good in it and emphasized the bad. That someone clearly wanted to prevent Muggle-borns from being allowed to attend Hogwarts by their parents.

It was an insidious plot.

"I don't know who told you all this, but I assure you, that person is a biased source. If you could tell me his name, I could—"

"No." Ashley shook her head frantically. "I won't do that. Now will you please leave? I've heard your piece, and you haven't changed my mind. So do as I've already asked and get out."

Hermione left. There were other ways to get the information she needed. Nothing would stop her from finding out just which pure-blood bastard was behind this new scheme to rid the Wizarding World of Muggle-borns.

* * *

Hermione was in a poor mood when she arrived back at her flat. As Mondays went, it had been bloody awful. Usually seeing Harry and Ron first thing in the morning was a good omen, though she supposed she should have guessed otherwise given what they had wanted to talk about. She had barely got anything done before it was time to go and visit the Muggles for Minerva. Unfortunately she had not found out much. Someone had contacted the Oaks and spoke with them about Hogwarts and the Wizarding World. That someone had put the worst possible light upon the subject, and though Hermione reiterated that the Wizarding World was safe for Muggle-borns, the stupid woman would not listen to her. In the end, Hermione had left so she could consider her options. She didn't think there was any way to change the Muggles' minds without literally messing with their thoughts or memories. In the end, though, the important thing was finding out who was behind the plot, and Hermione was willing to bet that person would soon be returning to the Muggles to make sure that they would still keep their daughter at home. 

After that errand was done, Hermione had returned to work in order to catch up with the schedule she had set herself for her latest research project. She had stayed late, knowing that she wasn't to meet Malfoy until seven, and then that was at her own flat. Unfortunately, just as she was beginning to make some progress, she noticed that she was running late. She had barely arrived home when Malfoy appeared in her living room.

"Granger!" he shouted when he saw her. "If you had told me that we were meeting in a hovel, I would have written back telling you that we'll meet someplace else." He took another look around at his surroundings and shuddered. "To get to the point, we will not be living here. I refuse to live in a place that—"

"That's not big enough for your ego to fit in," Hermione finished, crossing her arms as she glared at the ferret. This was the perfect way to end her day. She had to take out her frustrations on someone and who better to be her victim than Malfoy.

She almost felt sorry for him.

He glared back to her. "You think you're funny, don't you? Can't blame you, I suppose. Look at the company you keep." He smirked at her, a warning that he was planning to do something she wouldn't like much.

Hermione let out a hiss when he flopped down onto one end of her sofa, swinging his legs over so he was taking up the entire space. Her temper flared as he kicked the other end several times with his shoes. "Do you see what I mean?" he called out to her. "I barely have enough room to stretch. If you don't care about that, then care about where you are going to sit."

"Didn't your mother teach you any manners? Get your shoes off my sofa!" Hermione ordered.

He only grinned flippantly at her. "Yes, but she also taught me that I need not waste them on the likes of you."

She needed to calm down. If she didn't, she was going to curse him and she didn't want to clean up the mess that would create. Hermione closed her eyes, the better to remember the time Malfoy spent bouncing up and down as a ferret. That was a good memory. Feeling a bit better, she said, "And as to your other point, I never said that we should live here. I only said that we won't be living your parents' house."

"Why not?" he asked. "There's more than enough room. That's more than I can say for here. Afraid that there might be some nasty traps lurking in the dark corners of the Manor specifically aimed against Muggle-borns?"

"You mean to say there's not?" Hermione countered. She pushed her fringe out of her eyes. She briefly considered pushing Malfoy's legs aside so she could sit as well, but thought the better of it. She would rather stand.

"Frankly, I have never bothered to go looking for any of them. They all should have been disabled. Let me know if you find any once you move in," he told her airily.

"That's not going to happen."

"It is, and you have best get used to the idea over the next three months. Speaking of which—"

"Let me guess. Your mother has—"

"Will you quit interrupting me when I'm trying to speak, Granger?" Draco said sharply.

"I'm merely trying to save time. I can guess that your mother sent you over here to impress upon me the fact that a wedding with only fifty guests is plain ridiculous."

"It is!" he said. His cheeks flushed with color. "Were you trying to start an argument? Don't forget the hold I have over you. My mother was very upset about the nonsense you spouted off at her the other day."

"Oh, and we can't have that, now can we?" Hermione leaned forward in her seat. "You know what, Malfoy? I never thought I would say this, but you and Ron are really alike."

His gaze grew cold and steely. "You did not just compare me to the Weasel."

"You invite the comparison. Look at the way the both of you are afraid to anger your mothers." She made a small flourish with her hands as she rolled her eyes at him. "It's pathetic. You're a grown man. Can't you think for yourself?"

"I can't answer for Weasley, but yes, I can and do think for myself." He rose from his seat. "Do you honestly think that you even come close to what my mother would consider an acceptable wife for me?" he snarled as he stalked over towards her. He stopped in front of her when he was only a couple feet away. He looked up and down at her dismissingly. Hermione could feel herself flush under his vulgar stare. She was on the verge of saying something to him when he spoke.

"Fine," he bit out. "I concede. We won't be living at the manor."

"What?" That was not what Hermione thought he would say. She thought he would belabor the point more before she finally got him to give in.

"I said we won't be living with my parents. Don't get too excited. We won't be living here either," he sniffed haughtily. "I'll be choosing the place for us though. Given your aptitude for picking a flat, there is no way I would leave that chore to you."

Hermione didn't know what to say to that. She supposed she should just be happy that she got her way.

"The wedding, however, will not be as tiny as you have proposed. My mother couldn't whittle our guest list down to even twice that if she had a year to plan."

"The lack of time fuels the size of the wedding," Hermione pointed out.

"Is that all? Are you sure the lack isn't something else?" He raised an eyebrow at her. "It is amazing what sort of doors money can open." He threw something at her. Caught off guard, Hermione lunged for it and missed. It fell to her feet. Malfoy stood there waiting with an amused smirk as she bent down to pick it up. It was a key.

"That will give you access to one of my smaller vaults," he said lazily and waited. Hermione said nothing in response, not one to become needlessly incensed over what Malfoy was implying. After about a minute of silence, he went on. "I trust you'll find it easier to plan the grand affair that our wedding will be with suitable funds. It will be an event to remember, Granger, one way or another. I prefer it not to be remembered as evidence that my family and I are ashamed of you." Hermione bit her tongue, holding back the barb she so longed to throw at him. "My mother stands willing to help you should you need help coordinating the event."

"That will not be necessary," she replied icily. "All I require from her is the approximate number of guests she plans to invite." Hermione saw no reason to continue arguing over the size of the wedding. Since Malfoy was offering to pay for everything, that took care of the brunt of her real objections. Given the dismal galleon to pound exchange rate, Hermione didn't want to ask her parents to help her pay for a wedding just to satisfy Malfoy's taste. However, if he was providing the funds, then she would make it into the event of the year. Besides she had got what she really wanted with his earlier concession that they would not be living at the manor. Giving in now would let him continue to believe that he was in charge without her being too inconvenienced. That would suit her purposes nicely for now.

"If you say so," he said. "Now to move on to other matters. We need to start doing things together. The public will never believe that ours is a love match if we're never seen together, and it suits my purposes that they think that. I make it a point to attend every home game for my Quidditch team, and you will start accompanying to those matches."

Hermione nodded. She knew that was coming. It was about time he figured out that they had to coordinate their stories and start arranging to be seen together in public. She was getting a bit tired of answering all of the owls she received from her friends with trite replies. She was looking forward to being able to answer their questions secure in the knowledge that Malfoy wouldn't be saying anything to contradict her.

* * *

He knew something was wrong when his wife greeted him at the door. 

"What happened, Ashley?" Sydney Oaks asked his wife.

"There was a visitor today. One of them."

"I see." He regarded his wife. "Did he hurt you? Because if he did, I swear I'll—"

She rushed into his arms. "No, she didn't hurt me. She was scary, but she didn't hurt me one bit. Please, Sydney, we need help. There must be something that can be done so we can hide from them. I don't want to go through that again."

He stroked her back, trying to calm her down. "Okay, Ashley. I'll ask. I'll send an e-mail to him tonight asking that he come back over."

"As soon as possible. Because I know one of them come back again, and I'm afraid next time they just might take our Ayla away."

* * *

**Author's note:** Thanks for reading. I would appreciate it if you could also leave me review about what you thought about it. I'll be updating again next week. 

And my thanks go out to medusaasaphoenix, Akira M, allycat1186, Wudelfin, Stylenwild, shat, misssweetsweet, RememberMe2, brick-red-wall, and kazfeist for their reviews.


	5. Strategy Session

**Ambition's End: Strategy Session**

**Disclaimer: **These characters still are not mine.

* * *

With a practiced motion, Draco conjured more candles so it would be easier to see. It was a travesty how dark the goblins kept all the rooms at Gringotts. He saw no excuse for it; magic could easily prevent candles from tipping over and causing a fire. More light would be welcomed by all visitors who came down to check upon the status of their various investments.

Draco made a point of heading down to Gringotts every so often to examine his family's accounts and to allocate funds as he saw fit. About a third of the family fortune was placed in Malfoy Incorporated, which dealt primarily managing its various subsidiary corporations. Its subsidiaries dealt in a variety of areas. There were subsidiaries involved in the research and development of new potions and charms, a publishing company that owned Witch Weekly and other circulars, a couple of companies involved in the music industry, and another that primarily provided financial services. Draco spent the bulk of his time at Malfoy Inc., making sure that everything was running smoothly there.

The rest of the family fortune, however, was kept separate from the company. A portion was set aside for their personal use, but the rest was held in all manners of investments. Draco personally kept an eye on of all the major investments. It sometimes became a pain, given his family's vast holdings, but his family preferred to manage their own funds ever since a swindler had cheated his great-grandfather out of a goodly sum. Generally he tried to visit a couple times a month—more often when financial reports were due out—but his last visit had been slightly over a month ago. He really shouldn't have put it off for so long but there was nothing he could do about that now. He had been busy arranging the acquisition of his fiancée. Granger undoubtedly would not prefer to be called as such, but that was what she was to him and one that greatly increased the value of his family fortune. There were so many more doors open for him now that his name was linked with hers.

Draco glowered at the parchment before him. The racing broom company that he had put a goodly amount of galleons into either needed another infusion of money or they weren't going to be able to ever bring their product to market. He could afford to advance them the amount without any problems, but he wanted something in return. Draco made a note in the margin that he should contact the head of the company. If they wanted more money, he would want another concession for them. Perhaps a guarantee that the Quidditch team he owned, the Wimbourne Wasps, would get the very first brooms on the market. Certainly if the broom's ultimate specifications were close to those that were projected for it, it would be worth the additional cost.

Draco's frown suddenly morphed into a full-fledge glower that the figures before him took the brunt of. He couldn't believe the nerve of that bitch. He doubted that she would have dared to accuse him of not being able to think for himself if she saw him now. His mother wouldn't be interested in spending any money on racing brooms or Quidditch teams. Those were his own ideas, and he didn't run them past her for her approval. Likewise, he didn't ask his mother for permission before he persuaded Granger to marry him. Draco knew that if he had asked, his mother wouldn't have approved of the choice. She would have advised him to seek a more biddable wife. But obedience had never been amongst the qualities that Draco looked for in a witch; he had always wanted a witch who would be an asset rather than a liability that he would have to guard.

If he was completely honest with himself, the reason why Granger's accusations continued to irk him was because they had an inkling of truth. If they had been completely off the mark, he could have laughed it off as more evidence that Granger didn't know as much as she thought she knew. However, while he could and did think for himself, he had been sloppy in executing his ideas. He hadn't thought past accumulating enough information about Granger's little secret to get her to agree to his proposal. He should have thought of all the practical aspects that would come after her acceptance. He didn't.

Instead, his mother had to clean up after him.

He hadn't thought of any of that until his mother had brought it to his attention. It was no wonder that she was so upset with him that day. The whole reason why he had trapped Granger was because of all the power and influence the match would bring to him. By not planning ahead, he had opened the door to her undermining that. He had been very lucky that his mother had said something to him before Granger could do anything.

That was what he could not allow to happen again. He could not and would not continue to lean on his mother in that manner. He silently swore to himself that he would start acting with more caution. He would foresee potential problems himself and fix them without having anyone tell him to go do so. That was the main reason why he had agreed with Granger not to live with his parents. That way he couldn't rely upon them as a crutch the way he had been. He would have no choice but to become more self-reliant, like a good Slytherin should be.

Having come to that conclusion cleared his mind of the remaining anger he had been feeling since his last meeting with Granger. He turned his attention back to his accounts. The investment in one company purporting to have a brilliant new hair care potion that would make Sleekeazy's obsolete didn't look to be panning out. They had hardly sold any bottles, and Malfoy thought it was about time to pull out of that one. It would be at a loss, but he could put the remaining funds to better use. He decided he would instruct the goblins to sell the stock he had in that company and hold the funds received from the sale. If he could get the racing broom company to agree to his terms, he would then have that money forwarded to them. That would work out nicely.

Yawning, he stretched out his arms and his legs, tilting his chair back so it was balancing on its hind legs as fully extended his legs. He was about done for as there were only so many hours he could linger in Gringotts pouring over rolls of parchment before his eyesight began to blur and his neck began to ache. He bent his head first to the right, then to the left. He repeated that motion several times as he tried to work out that stubborn crick in his neck but it did no good. It was a lost cause. Draco decided then and there to call it a day. He had dealt with all the matters that needed his attention at the present. He could put everything else off until his next visit, especially since things may have changed for the better for him. He smiled to himself. His father had had an easier time of it back when he handled matters because back then practically no one would refuse a bribe from a Malfoy. These days, Draco found it harder to find someone who was willing to take his money in exchange for exercising what discretion they had in his favor. That was ludicrous in Draco's opinion; he doubted that Shacklebolt kept a close eye on what every bureaucrat did. Bribery of minor officials had always been the normal mode of operation in the Ministry, and Draco could not see that ever changing.

Draco stood up and tapped his wand against the table, summoning all the rolls of parchment together. With another wave of his wand, he shrunk and tucked most of them away into the bag they were originally in. He only left out those that showed what changes he intended to make so he could hand that over to the goblin in charge of their vaults so his new instructions could be carried out as soon as possible. He then charmed the bag to follow him, not wanting to be burdened with it as he walked out. He exited the room.

He quickly made his way out of the bowels of Gringotts stopping only to hand over all the documents to the goblin in charge of the accounts. Once that was done, he stepped outside, blinking at the brightness of the sun. It was late afternoon in Diagon Alley, and as usual, the place was bustling. He picked his way through the streets, intent on visiting a few particular places in Knockturn Alley. Draco remembered the warning Chambers had given him last week. There was something going on amongst the pure-bloods of his age, and he hadn't heard anything about it. The right words in the wrong places would soon remedy that situation.

* * *

Ron shook his head as he surveyed the scene before him. This chaos had all been his sister's idea. Ginny's organizational skills were not on the same level as Hermione's, but that had never stopped her from trying.

That was too bad.

From what Ron had gleaned from Harry, after Ginny had arrived home Monday evening, she had set about bothering her boyfriend for details on Hermione's state of mind. Evidently, Hermione had only sent the most perfunctory of replies to her after Ginny had owled her out of concern. Harry had reassured Ginny that Hermione was fine and that she hadn't been coerced in any way into marrying Malfoy. That had should have been enough for her. It wasn't.

Instead, she had decided to hold a meeting this Wednesday amongst their mutual friends, who were wondering what was going on with Hermione. Apparently Hermione hadn't been forthcoming on the details on her engagement to anyone. Ron wasn't surprised by that; she was a private person and had never been very fond of being the center of attention. He knew that she would get around to talking with all of her friends in due time. Knowing her, she would schedule a meeting with all of them to tell them know her reasons and then trot out Malfoy for introductions. He had been looking forward to it as the perfect opportunity to see how much he had improved with casting wandless hexes.

Ron considered for a moment what Hermione would think once she found out about this meeting of Ginny's. She would probably be upset, to say the least. She never did like anyone meddling in her life. Also, she was almost vicious when she didn't get her way. Ron had found that out the hard way during their short-lived relationship. Hermione was used to being in charge in every situation. He wondered if Malfoy truly knew what Hermione was like. He doubted it—out of all the Houses, the Slytherins knew the least about her. He had heard what they had said about her while they had all been at Hogwarts. They had thought that she was a goody two-shoes, always doing what was right and never breaking any rules.

That was only half the story. Hermione always did what _she _thought was right. She would ignore others' input into that particular question. As for following the rules, she only did so when it helped her out. This was the girl who had suggested raiding the potions supply cabinet back when she was only a second year. Ron knew that Hermione didn't really give a damn about following the rules. The only thing that ever gave her pause was the possibility of getting caught.

No, Ron concluded, Hermione would not be happy at all when she found out about Ginny's plans, especially as she evidently already had her own plans on how to deal with all of this. Unfortunately for everyone involved, Ginny had inherited from their mum the tendency to want to run everyone else's lives. Ron stifled a sigh as he recalled all the matchmaking attempts that both his mum and his sister had made on his behalf throughout the years. The only one who had escaped from the Weasley women's meddling ways was Harry, and then Harry was a lucky sod. Ron had been very jealous of Harry when he was younger. Ron wanted a scar just like Harry's because apparently it made all the women in the world want to coddle him. It was fucking insane. His mum doted on Harry whenever he visited the Burrow. His sister had always adored him. Hermione treated Harry as though he was made of glass. Ron had noticed that although she wouldn't put up with his drunken escapades, she was always very considerate of poor Harry whenever he had consumed too much spirits. Even McGonagall herself—who was infamous for being a stickler for the rules—had favored Harry, allowing him on their House team when he was only a first year. Her excuse about Gryffindor really needing a Seeker was bullshit; that rule had been enforced at Hogwarts for ages, and Harry had never ridden on a broom before or even heard of Quidditch. It was just another example of how women coddled Harry his whole damn life. What used to really make Ron sick was how Harry never seemed to notice it. Ron had got over his jealousy since then, figuring out that Harry didn't notice it because for him, it was the norm. Thankfully, his scar never had the same affect on men, otherwise Ron doubted he would have ever stopped being envious of his best friend's luck.

Ron shifted his attention back to the present, where his little sister was doing her best to get everyone's attention. Ginny had only invited wizards and witches that they had known during their years at Hogwarts. Their parents were notably absent, and Ron wondered what his mum would say to his sister when she found out about all this. He pushed those thoughts aside, knowing that there was little chance that he would get to witness his mum's reaction, and instead started to take note of just who was present. Harry was off in a corner, chatting with Neville about something. Their year was well-represented amongst the room. It would have been anyway, given that he and Harry were there, but Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil were seated in the center of the room, close to where Ginny was located. Ron snorted. He wondered if they were in attendance out of concern for Hermione or so that they could make sure that they didn't miss out on any good gossip.

The rest of the Gryffindors in attendance were almost all former Quidditch players. George was there, of course. There was no way he was going to miss this event, especially with Ginny nagging him. Alicia Spinnet, Angelina Johnson, and Katie Bell were all accounted for, although Katie was the only one really close to Hermione. Delmeza Robbins sat by them, listening in as the others talked amongst themselves, only occasionally chiming in with words of her own. Ron chalked up her presence to the fact that she was friends with Ginny; he couldn't recall Hermione having much contact with the girl. Another odd duck present was Dennis Creevey; he didn't fit into either of the two aforementioned groups. Ron hadn't seen much of the boy after the war, but Hermione had mentioned that he had become bitter as a result of his brother dying. Ron assumed that Hermione had continued to be in contact with the remaining Creevey brother, and so he was in attendance because he was worried about her.

Of course, there were members of other Houses in attendance as well, with the lone exception of Slytherin. Justin Finch-Fletchey was the lone Hufflepuff present. There were many Ravenclaws, as Hermione had forged a bond with many members of that House had forged a bond over the years. Padma Patil was noticeably not by her sister. She sat on the sofa along with Anthony Goldstein and Terry Boot. Luna Lovegood was wandering around, casually joining one conversation only to leave it when she grew tired of it. Ron noticed that people looked relieved whenever she decided to move on; Luna's brand of conversation was best handled in small doses. Ron noted that many of the occupants of the room seemed relaxed, treating the meeting as though it were a mini-reunion.

"Ron! Will you help me here?" his little sister demanded from her position in the center of the room.

Sighing to himself, he trotted over to join her. "What do you need Ginny?" he asked.

"Everyone's attention, of course, but I can get that myself. What I need you for is tell everyone what Hermione has told you once I have it," she huffed angrily. Ron figured that she was still peeved that Hermione had not bothered to talk to her, even though she had sent owl after owl asking Hermione if everything was okay. If Ginny had bothered to ask Ron for advice, he would have told her to back off. Hermione would come and visit her when she was ready and not a moment sooner. He didn't volunteer what he thought because that would give her an excuse to snap at him.

Not that she needed one, really.

"I thought Harry was—"

"Well, whatever he's talking about with Neville must be simply fascinating because he has ignored all my attempts to flag him down." Ginny sent a glance of annoyance in Harry's direction. Harry must have felt that for he looked up and met Ginny's eyes. Thankfully Harry got the hint and walked over, which got Ron off the hook. He hated speaking in public. He much preferred to leave that job to Harry, although the other wizard wasn't fond of it too. Ron thought not being the speaker of choice was one of the benefits to being the sidekick, instead of the hero who saved the Wizarding World.

Once Harry was positioned at Ginny's side, she turned her focus to getting everyone to pay attention to her. "Everyone," she called out. "We're ready to start." She repeated this several times, glowering liberally about the room, and people began to quit talking as their neighbors elbowed them to be quiet.

"Now, as I am sure you have all heard, every media outlet has been reporting that Hermione has accepted Draco Malfoy's proposal," Ginny continued after everything had settled down. "Like all of you, I immediately owled Hermione upon hearing the news, but her reply left much to be desired. I also tried to see her at the Ministry, but as an Unspeakable, she's bloody hard to reach." A couple people laughed at that remark, but Ginny soon silenced them with a frosty glare. "Fortunately, Harry and my brother were able to speak with her a couple days ago."

"Well, Hermione's well," Harry started awkwardly. There was more laughter in the room, but this time Ginny didn't bother to end it. "Um…she's not under _Imperio_ or any sort of potion as far as we can tell."

"Is the news true though?" piped up Neville. "My first thought that it was a rumor planted by Malfoy to make him look good"

"Yes," Parvati added. "I thought the same at first, but then I realized that would only blow up in his face. So he wouldn't have planted it there unless it was true."

Ginny nodded. "I know. Me, I thought that one of Hermione's enemies had started the tale to try and bring her down. Not everyone at the Prophet likes Hermione, and I can think of at least one who would enjoy watching her fall."

"It's true enough," Harry told them all. "Hermione has told Malfoy that she will marry him."

"But why?" several people in the room questioned.

"Well, Hermione's come up with a typical Hermione-like explanation," Harry rambled, "meaning very hard to explain and impossible to understand unless you can think like her—"

Ron rolled his eyes. He would have to step in. He wanted to get home some time tonight, and if he let Harry continue trying to explain things, they would be here until next week. "Basically, what he's trying to say is that Hermione's spent too much time around him for her own good," Ron put in. He ignored the withering stares sent his way. "So his hero complex has sort of rubbed off on her."

"Ron! Stop that! You're making it sound like it's Harry's fault," Ginny scolded him. "It's no one's fault but Malfoy's."

"And Hermione's," Ron insisted. He paused to gather his thoughts and to make sure that what he was about to say was in line with the story Hermione wanted to publish to the public. Ron knew very well that his friend would maim him if he messed up and implied that her sole reason for her betrothal was to set an example for cooperation amongst different factions in the Wizarding World. Once he was done, he continued with his explanation.

"You all know how Hermione is. She always sees the best in everyone and ignores glaring faults. So some time during the last year, she decided to give Malfoy a second chance and get to know him better so she can convince him to change his ways. Mind you, this was all without me or Harry knowing, otherwise we would have put a stop to it. To make a long story short, she wound up falling in love with him, and so she was only too happy to say yes to his proposal." His statement caused the room to erupt with noise, with people talking with those beside them about whether the reason Hermione gave made any sense or if she had indeed lost it, like Ron had suggested. From what Ron could make out, the general consensus was in his favor.

"Why did you have to go and say that, Ron?" Ginny admonished him. "Now we're never going to get everyone focused on the problem at hand." She looked at the fracas that he had caused and then waded in, begging everyone to calm down and to start thinking of ways to help Hermione.

"I'm sorry, Ginny," said Ron as he followed after her. And he was though not for the reasons that she thought. He had underestimated his sister; he sometimes continued to think of her as the insecure schoolgirl who was more jealous than fond of Hermione. It had taken Ginny a lot of time to put her doubts to rest about Hermione's intentions towards Harry and see that their relationship was truly one of sister and brother. She hadn't truly become at ease with how much Harry thought of Hermione until one night a couple years ago when they had all been invited to dinner at Hermione's flat. During dinner, Hermione had been mothering Harry as was her wont when he had protested, saying that he was grown up now and didn't need her to look after him anymore. The look his friends had exchanged there made it plain for all to see that neither harbored any romantic feelings for the other. Ever since then, Ginny had been friendlier and more open towards Hermione, counting her as one of the people she tried to look out for. That was one of the reasons why Ginny had organized this meeting, not only to let all of their mutual friends know about what was happening with Hermione, but also to look out for her in case Malfoy hadn't truly changed.

Currently, Ginny was having no luck in settling things down. Ron knew he had pretty much destroyed his sister's plans for the evening. He tapped his sister's shoulder, thinking that it was time to suggest that continuing the meeting while everyone was so upset was a lost cause.

"Quiet!" Harry's voice thundered across the room. Ron jumped, startled at how his best friend looked. In addition to underestimating his sister, he had also forgotten how formidable Harry on occasion. This was one of these occasions.

"Speculation as to Hermione's sanity aside, the whole point of Ginny and I calling everyone here tonight is for us to think of ways to convince Hermione that she shouldn't go through with this," Harry said clearly, all traces of nervousness now gone from his voice. "She thinks that he's changed, that he's now the sort who can be trusted. He's not. I know he's not. We've got to get Hermione to see that."

"The thing is with Hermione is that once she has made up her mind, it's impossible to get her to change it. I don't think you'll be able to convince her that she's wrong about Malfoy. She hates being wrong to begin with…and for as something as big as this. You would need concrete proof," said Katie. Those standing near her were nodding their heads in agreement, and Ron found himself agreeing with those words as well. Hermione wouldn't appreciate them trying to go back and talk her out of her decision. She didn't like to be second-guessed by anyone. Whenever Ron had tried to get her to change her mind in the past, she had taken his attempts as though they were a personal insult. Perhaps to her, they were.

"Katie's right," Ron stated. "Though I also think you're right too, Harry, so don't get hacked off at me. Malfoy's not to be trusted." Ron scratched the side of his nose. "Maybe we can find something about that."

Harry nodded his head. "Yes," he said, "we would be the best to work on it from that angle. But there has to be something we can do now to convince Hermione that this idea of hers is shit." That spurred another flurry of comments from the crowd, all mentioning different methods of getting Hermione to see the light.

Ron ignored them for the most part. Ginny would keep track of them, and he knew that later, after everyone else had left, the three of them would hash out the good ideas from the bad. He thought that his suggestion was the best, especially because lately there had been a couple unsubstantiated rumors that a group of pure-bloods were after Harry and his closest friends. That had sent Harry into a flying rage when he first heard that Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were targets, even though more seasoned Aurors had attempted to calm him down, telling him that the rumors were likely just that, created out of the fears people retained even after the war was long over. One of the reasons why their last mission took them out of the country was to see if their absence would prompt the rumored group to do something that would show their hand. That had been one of the first things they had asked about once they had reported back to Auror headquarters, but they were told that nothing had happened. The only thing new was that an oracle at the Department of Mysteries had spoken up about Hermione's life being in danger the same day that she had registered her betrothal at the Ministry. Ron didn't think the timing of the oracle was any coincidence. Malfoy had approached Hermione while they were gone, and if there was any wizard who was likely to be plotting to kill Ron's friends, that wizard was Malfoy. Ron hadn't shared his suspicions yet because he feared what Harry's reaction would be.

However later tonight, Ron would mention that possibility to Harry, after everyone else left. Ginny would be there to keep a handle on Harry, and then they could start working on finding out what Malfoy's true intentions towards Hermione truly were.

* * *

Once a month, the Department of Mysteries hosted a dinner that all of its employees were required to attend. That it was mandatory was the only reason Hermione ever dragged herself out there. It was a new thing, started by Old Man Bal only a few months ago. The memo that was sent around announcing the launch of monthly department dinners had spouted some nonsense about him wanting to encourage his employees to be more friendly and involved with one another. She doubted that. After all, that rather went against the whole idea of having Unspeakables in the first place, though she did agree that having people that you trusted enough to bounce research ideas off of was valuable. Hermione knew that the old man's real reason for having monthly departmental dinners was so that he could play politics and ascertain who would be useful to him when it came to keeping his position as head of their department. The monthly dinner was always a trial to her, so when Malfoy first broached the subject of them making appearances in public together, she had volunteered to take him to the dinner that was scheduled for that week. If she had to suffer his presence, she might as well do it in during an event that was an ordeal to begin with rather than during something that she actually enjoyed. Besides, she knew her co-workers well enough to expect them to have many questions about her recent betrothal. Bringing Malfoy along would allow her to see whether or not he could—and would—hold his own when it came to fielding questions about them while they were together.

Her co-workers were a cunning bunch, and their sudden appearance at the dinner didn't stop any conversation. To the casual onlooker, it would seem as though no one batted an eye as Hermione entered on Malfoy's arm. However Hermione was certain that more than a few conversations turned to the subject of her betrothal when they walked in, and she quietly placed bets on either Padma Patil or her awful boss to be the first to approach the couple. As usual, betting with herself was no fun, as inevitably she won when Padma came up to the two of them.

"Hermione," said the dark-haired witch warmly. "How are you this evening?"

"Fine, thank you," replied Hermione. She looked between her friend and her fiancé. "I trust that the two of you know one another." Malfoy nodded stiffly in response, while a smile spread across Padma's face.

"Yes, of course. Malfoy and I were partners once on a project for Ancient Runes," Padma said. "Although can I say that I was completely taken by surprise when I first heard about your betrothal? I didn't even know that you were seeing anyone," she finished with a flourish.

"Yes, well, you know me. I was never one to seek out the spotlight," said Hermione.

"No matter what those awful articles said," Padma agreed pleasantly.

"Exactly. So I didn't want everyone to know, you know, because then the spotlight would be rather unavoidable," explained Hermione.

"But obviously we couldn't hide our betrothal, especially since we were required to register with the Ministry," Malfoy added in an affable manner. He smiled genially at the other witch. "And since I didn't want anyone to think that I was ashamed of Hermione—"

"Or I of him," Hermione interjected.

"We decided we might as well start appearing together in public. I must say, it's a huge relief to finally have everyone know," Malfoy said glibly. If Hermione didn't know better, she would think that he was telling the truth. It was evident that Malfoy knew how to lie well. That was what she had anticipated of him; he was never very good at telling the truth to begin with, and the war had only honed his lying skills.

"A relief?" repeated Padma.

"Yes, a relief," said Hermione to back up Malfoy's words. "Sometimes the anticipation is worse than reality, so it was such a relief to let everyone know. I still don't like being the center of attention—"

"No, you never did, and you also liked to avoid confrontation. Now that I think about it, your actions are in line with your personality," Padma noted quietly. She cast a sideways glance at Malfoy. "I can't say the same of you, however. You always seemed to seek out the spotlight." Padma glanced at Malfoy once more, and Hermione caught what the other witch was trying to imply, that it would have been to Malfoy's benefit for them to have appeared in public together before their engagement.

Malfoy inclined his head regally. "Yes, I was a spoiled brat who was always looking for attention. I like to think that I have matured since then. Besides"—a brilliant smile broke out across his face—"a relationship is all about compromise. And quite frankly, I wouldn't want to subject Hermione to the sort of vicious gossip that would have erupted if it had become known that we were dating. I doubt the press would have been kind to either one of us."

Malfoy's smile was contagious and spread to Hermione. That was a very good line that Malfoy had come up with. Yes, it was all too easy to believe that they had kept their relationship private because they were worried that the press would paint Malfoy as an opportunistic prick only interested in improving his reputation and Hermione herself as an emotional idiot who couldn't even see that she was being used. She silently congratulated herself on choosing someone who could think on his feet, instead of sputtering about, trying not to spill the truth. Malfoy could hold his own, and more importantly, he appeared willing to do so. Perhaps he had grown up a bit since Hogwarts, but the best thing was that she was still able to get him to do as she wanted, without him being the wiser. It was almost not fair how it easy it was for her to manipulate men.

"Ah, Miss Granger. It's so wonderful that you've brought your fiancé here," a cheery voice sounded from behind her. Hermione inwardly winced and amended her last thought. Hermione had many methods she could use to manipulate young men. Old men, like her damned boss, were a different story. Most of them were easy to control once Hermione got them to think of her as the daughter they never had, but a rare few were so set in their prejudiced ways that there was no way she could change them. Some old dogs were too stubborn to learn new tricks.

When Hermione had first met Balthazar Merlose, the renowned old man of the Department of Mysteries, she had done her best to ingratiate herself to him. After all, he was a living legend in the department and beyond. He was one of the few wizards capable of fabricating new time turners on his own, and he was the world's foremost expert on temporal magic. Balthazar had started his career in the private sector, creating a bevy of brilliant potions that revolutionized the practice of Mediwizardry. He had joined the Ministry after some sort of personal tragedy, and ever since then, he had become obsessed with the various oracles kept hidden deep within the bowels of the Department of Mysteries. His research was highly classified; it was rumored that the wily old man had kept it secret from several Ministers of Magic that Balthazar felt could not be trusted. Hermione's sources had only been able to tell her that his research had to deal with the possibility of subverting fate and that the old man had become obsessed with that topic after his personal tragedy. So it was when she first entered the department, she did her best to make the old man like her, hoping to have his help with her own research as well as maybe getting a look at his.

Unfortunately, the old man was a misogynistic, pure-blooded arsehole. He had rebutted all of Hermione's attempts at being friendly and constantly insinuated that she did not deserve her position. None of her usual tactics had worked on him so she had given up on him as a lost cause. Instead, she concentrated on her own research when she was at work. Hermione had every intention of getting him replaced as department head one day, either by taking the position herself or finding someone more amenable to her control to fill his spot. Her plans to get rid of him had been ignored in favor of her arranging her betrothal to Malfoy, but once the wedding was over, Hermione knew she would return to them. The old man's efforts at getting her fired were becoming tiresome.

"Mr. Malfoy," said Balthazar, acting as a jovial host for all the world to see. "It is a pleasure to see you again. You have grown since I last saw you, lad. Congratulations to you for snaring such a fine witch as your bride."

"Thank you," Malfoy replied stiffly. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, wondering if he sensed that the old man wasn't as friendly as he appeared to be. It did seem as though Malfoy had some suspicions about something, but perhaps as a Slytherin, he was naturally suspicious about everyone he met. Not that that was a bad thing, but he did a horrible job of concealing that fact. Hermione would never make that same mistake.

"Your mother must be looking forward to this match," the old wizard was saying. Hermione cocked an eyebrow at him as did Malfoy.

"Yes, she has given her approval," Malfoy ventured cautiously.

"Of course, of course, she has given her approval, my boy. She must be looking forward to her retirement."

"Retirement?" Hermione echoed. She glanced over at her fiancé to see if he knew what the old man was talking about but Malfoy was frowning and avoiding her eyes. Hermione then turned to look at her friend, but it was clear that Padma was as confused as Hermione was. Maybe the old man had finally lost it. That would make it easier for Hermione to depose him from his position of power.

"Ah, I guess it's not a traditional retirement of sorts. But I expect that much like Lucius Malfoy has handed over the reins of the Malfoy business to young Draco here, Narcissa Malfoy will be stepping back so you can take over her duties as the lady of the house." A smug grin covered the old man's face. "I expect you will find that position very demanding," he added.

Malfoy spoke up before Hermione could say a word. "Is that so, sir?" he asked, his eyes narrowed to mere slits of silver. "I must confess that I am surprised that you are looking forward to my mother stepping down as I wasn't aware that you found my mother's galas so boring. I will make certain to pass that tidbit of information along to her."

"Don't be ridiculous, boy. Your mother is excellent at everything she does, and none of the events she has planned could be called boring, but it is tiring work. I am certain that your parents are looking forward to traveling during their golden years once she is able to pass her duties on to young Hermione here."

"On the contrary, my mother has no such plans," Malfoy replied in an even tone. "Darling Hermione here wants to continue her research, and my mother is more than willing to continue on in her present capacity. I would add that I hardly consider my parents to be in their golden years."

Hermione laughed throatily and placed a hand on Malfoy's shoulder. "Draco dear, don't take offense. I know Balthazar meant none." She smiled chillingly in the old man's direction before continuing. "I am certain that his speculations about your parents were mostly due to his own desire to travel and see the world in his twilight years. Hopefully, a successor can be found soon so he can do exactly that."

She was not usually one to give such direct warnings, but Malfoy had given her an opening that she could not ignore. Her thinly-veiled barb struck home, and the old man could not say farewell fast enough after that. Hermione knew that Balthazar would be working feverishly on securing his position after such an open threat, but at the moment, she didn't care. Anything the old man did was merely delaying the inevitable. Hermione spent the rest of the evening by Malfoy's side, fielding questions from her co-workers, most of them just as curious as Padma was about how their relationship started. Her wizard was charming throughout, and by the time the dinner was over, all of them believed the tale that she and Malfoy had concocted. All in all, it was very much a productive evening.

* * *

**Author's note:** Thanks so much for reading. Any and all reviews would be very much appreciated as I would love to know what you thought. This isn't my favorite chapter, but it is rather necessary to set several things up.

Finally, my thanks goes out to medusaasaphoenix, pstibbons, bananna15, Akira M, shat, iluv2dance, misssweetsweet, Jaid Ziaen, Gentileschi, eoreos, KRL2008, allycat1186, wickedwench1,kazfeist, and sugar n spice 522 for their reviews .


	6. Shuffling the Deck

**Ambition's End: Shuffling the Deck  
**

**Disclaimer: **These characters still are not mine.

* * *

Hermione clenched her fists at her side as she walked down the corridor. She hated having people staring at her. She had never become accustomed to it despite the fact that she had been the subject of people's interests for many years, ever since speculation first started about her romantic life when she went to the Yule Ball with Viktor Krum. She thought that staring incessantly at someone was the height of rudeness. She wasn't placed on this earth for the entertainment of others, no matter what gossip columnists might suggest. Hermione was a woman who appreciated her privacy. However, because she had done so many good things for the Wizarding World, it was virtually impossible for her to escape the public eye, unless she used some charm or spell. It was just more proof that no good deed ever went unpunished. 

It was too bad that was no longer possible to effectively use any sort of concealment charm within the confines of the Ministry itself. She had Kingsley Shacklebolt himself to thank for that. He had learned many a lesson from his predecessors, and as a result, was wilier than all of them combined. One could still cast a Disillusionment charm within the Ministry; the Aurors would have complained mightily if they could no longer ensure that their conferences were kept private by warding their meeting places with spells and the various gossips that pervaded the Ministry might have very well launched a rebellion of their own. The Ministry of Magic was built for intrigue. However, what one could no longer do was cast a Disillusionment charm and expect it to move with its caster. Wards were set up in every intersection and doorway that disabled any and all Disillusionment charms. Hence to try to travel incognito using magic, a witch would have cast multiple charms along the way while risking exposure during the time it took to recast the charm after it had been dispelled. That was an exhausting proposition. For that reason, Hermione didn't both with trying to use magic to hide when she walked around the Ministry. No, if she wanted to hide from prying eyes, she did it the old fashion way.

Besides there was a part of her that always did love skulking around in dark corners, although she usually didn't indulge that part of her. Sneaking around like that basically told anyone who happened to see you that you have a secret to hide, and so Hermione usually chose to walk straightforwardly to her destination, gossips be damned. Today, however, she was making an exception. While she didn't want anyone to know about what she planning to do, her real reason for trying to hide from everyone was to get away from the non-stop staring. That was beginning to wear on her nerves, but unfortunately there was no cure for that except for time. With time, people would get tired of talking about her and the basis for her relationship wit Malfoy. Until then she would either have to put up with the stares or do her best to hide from all those who were curious. And that was practically everyone.

Thus Hermione hid in corners and ducked behind pillars whenever she heard people approaching. It was very slow going, but it wasn't as exhausting as the alternative. She wished that she had asked Harry for his Invisibility Cloak before agreeing to see him as he had asked. She wasn't certain that it would stand up to all the dispelling wards just because there were so many of them, but she was more than willing to be the guinea pig who found out. Alas she had been so happy that Harry had asked to see her about something before she would have to make the same request of him that she had cheerfully owled him back saying that she would be right over without thinking everything through. She regretted her haste almost as soon as she set foot outside of her office.

Finally Hermione reached the second floor where Harry was stationed as a junior Auror. Privately she thought that that title for Harry was a bit absurd. It was true that he hadn't as much experience as Aurors who had worked years in that department. However, he was more powerful magically than all of them, and Hermione had personally seen to it that he had learned more curses and counter-curses than most of them. In addition to that, he had defeated Voldemort several times, something that none of his supposed seniors had ever managed to do. She did agree with Shacklebolt insisting that both of her boys go through Auror training like everyone else; more training never hurt anyone if you asked her. Yet she was of the opinion that once Harry finished with his training courses, he should have been promoted up simply because there was no one else who was as qualified to be an Auror as he.

Hermione made a right turn and headed down another hallway. Two rights, one left, and then a final right later, she was standing in front of Harry's door. She knocked on his door, entering only when she heard his voice telling her to go ahead and do so.

"You're looking rather frazzled," he said to her by way of greeting.

"Good afternoon to you too, Harry," said Hermione. "Haven't you learned by now not to start off a conversation with insulting someone's looks? Not unless you want to start a fight, that is."

"I didn't think that was insulting; it was merely an observation. Besides, I know better than to start anything with you. You don't fight fair and somehow you always know what I'm planning," he replied with a disarming smile on his face.

Hermione smiled back as she lowered herself into the chair across from him. "If I don't fight fair, it's because I know I would lose to you in a fair fight. But you're right. I am feeling rather frazzled. How do you put up with it when people don't stop staring at you?"

"You get used to it after awhile," Harry stated. Hermione scrunched up her face in disbelief. "Okay, let me amend that. Most people get used to it after awhile. If you're Hermione Granger, you would rather change the world than get accustomed to something you find so distasteful. Am I right?"

"I wouldn't go that far. But I was thinking of suggesting to Shacklebolt that perhaps Ministry officials need to start taking classes on basic courtesy," admitted Hermione.

"You wouldn't be the first one to make that suggestion," Harry laughed. "Some of them can be very officious. I've been on guard duty here, and I've had calls during that where I can't blame the poor bastard for hexing the official in question. I had trouble myself not hexing the arse while listening to him complain how I wasn't fast enough in getting there."

Hermione scrunched her face up disapprovingly. "They still put you on guard duty? That's such a waste."

"We all have to deal with the occasional guard duty. There aren't enough of us to go around. Eventually, there will be a separate unit for that but…" Harry shrugged. "It's a matter of Kingsley putting together a way to make sure everyone we hire is trustworthy and then I have to devise their training program."

"You?"

"Yes, well…" Harry blushed. "You have McGonagall to blame for that. Seems like she mentioned to Kingsley that we used sneak around Hogwarts at night whenever we felt like it."

"It wasn't whenever we felt like it!" Hermione protested. "We always had a good reason."

"Of course you did. Ron and I…not so much. But anyway, Kingsley thought that if I had so much experience in sneaking around, I would be tops at teaching guards how to find people who are trying to sneak around."

"That makes a twisted sort of sense," she said admiringly. "Well once you get the people you need and start that program, make sure you impress upon them that if they see Hermione Granger sneaking around, trying to avoid the public eye…."

"Let her go on her way without any questions," Harry finished. "Actually, that's a good way to sort out who has enough common sense for the job. If they're stupid enough to call attention to you when you're trying to avoid it, I don't think they'll last long with those sorts of instincts."

"Speaking of jobs," said Hermione, "I wanted to talk to you about that."

"You want to switch departments?" Harry asked hopefully. "You're wasted on research, you know that right?"

"I happen to like research. And don't be so quick to scoff at it; my research has saved your life plenty of times. But no, it's not a job for me. I was wondering if there are any Aurors who want to retire."

"There's plenty, but none we can spare," said Harry.

"Is Shacklebolt still refusing all resignations?"

"He would if there were any. Fortunately, we're a tight-knit bunch. No one is going to leave us in a lurch."

Hermione frowned. "But that's the thing. There has to be at least one Auror who isn't as quick as he used to be and should be thinking of moving on."

"Why?" Harry cocked an eyebrow at her. "To be a guinea pig for experiments at the Department of Mysteries? I don't think there's anyone who wants that position."

"No, Harry. Hogwarts needs a new Defense Against The Dark Arts professor."

"Again? The position should no longer be cursed."

"Yes, again. According to Minerva, all the applicants for the position have been less than capable. That's one of the reasons why she still can't find anyone who will last longer than a year. A retired Auror would be a good choice," Hermione explained.

"There are some Aurors who are getting a bit old, but I don't think Kingsley will let any of them go. We are spread very, very thin." Harry shot her a look of exasperation. "I thought you knew that."

"Then I need to speak with Shacklebolt. Because that's not thinking ahead. In order for you not to be so short-handed, you'll need new recruits. New recruits with some training and ability, I wager. You're not going to get that with the current state of Defense Against The Dark Arts instruction at Hogwarts. I know you can ill afford to lose an Auror, much less one with years of experience under his belt. But you have to think about moving ahead and how to develop new talents who are willing and able to join you. Furthermore, having a former Auror as a professor at Hogwarts might be the best advertisement possible for your department over there. Just think of what sort of influence such a professor could exert over the young, impressionable students there."

Harry nodded slowly. "I can see where you're going with that. Do you want me to talk with Kingsley?"

"No. I can talk to him. I promised Minerva that I would, so I want to be the one to do it," said Hermione. "He won't be happy with the idea, so let him yell at me. I did want to talk to you to see if there would be anyone interested in the position."

"I'll ask around," promised Harry. "Now that I think about it, there are a couple of Aurors who might do. I'll see if either of them is interested in teaching at Hogwarts."

"Thanks Harry," said Hermione.

"No worries. Especially as you're thinking about what's best for us too. Though I do have a favor to as of you as well," he said.

"I rather expected that, seeing how it was you who asked me to come here," Hermione noted.

"Yes, well…I don't know how to really put this…"

"Just say it," she advised.

"I was wondering about Malfoy—"

She held up a hand. "Harry. If you're going to ask me to reconsider my decision—again, I might add, so it's more like reconsidering my reconsideration—I don't want to hear it."

"No, no, I'm not." Harry shook his head from side to side. "This is something else."

"Okay. Let's hear it then. What about Malfoy?"

"Well, you know about the rumors that have been going around for the last couple of months?"

"Which ones?" Hermione asked, smiling wryly at her friend. She supposed that Harry, being male, didn't realize that there were always several rumors going around the Ministry at any given time. Most of them were in regards inconsequential items, but she figured that he was referring to one of the most serious ones. If Hermione had to guess, it was either the one about the supposed pure-blood group that was secretly fostering rebellion or the one about how her boss was plotting to get rid of her.

"Ah. I was referring to the one about a group of pure-bloods banding together with the idea of getting rid of those they consider to be thorns in their sides."

"Meaning you and me and several others, I assume." Hermione silently congratulated herself for guessing right.

"Yes."

She frowned at him and then waved a hand airily. "There have been rumors about that since the war ended. I don't see why you've chosen to pay them any attention now."

Harry leveled his stare at her. "I don't suppose you've heard what the Department of Mysteries' oracles have said about the matter."

She stifled a groan. No, she hadn't heard about that, partly because Balthazar was forever keeping those so-called prophecies from her so she couldn't poke holes in them and partly because she knew they were all nonsense anyway. "No, I have not," she admitted to Harry through gritted teeth.

"I thought as much. One of the most reliable ones—if not _the_ most reliable one—has predicted that there will be an attempt on your life."

"Oh joy. Did it mention a specific date? Because I will be sure to pencil that into my calendar. I could always use more excitement in my life."

"Hermione," said Harry reproachfully. "You could take them a little more seriously."

"The day that happens, I will no longer be the Hermione you know and love," she pointed out.

"True enough," said Harry. "But you must admit that the rumors in and of themselves have been damn persistent. We have nothing concrete—if we did, Kingsley would have already ordered a raid. But they're always there, and then there was that oracle, and now more details are slowly leaking in."

"Such as?" she prompted.

"The most troubling detail—and you know this is confidential, right?—is that the old guard isn't in charge of this little group. Rather it's the younger ones, the people around our age, who aren't satisfied with how things stand and are looking into how to improve their lot."

"And you think that Malfoy might be a part of this movement," Hermione concluded for him. She twisted her nose as she mentally ran over all the information she had on Malfoy. She would have never chosen him if she thought that he was still willing to act on old beliefs. She had carefully researched her choices before moving forward to acquire the wizard she thought would best suit her purposes. The Malfoys all had done their best to prove to society that they had reformed, and if she had found any evidence pointing to the conclusion that the Malfoys weren't sincere, she wouldn't have bothered to pursue him especially given how troublesome it was to land him as a catch. Though Hermione's experience at Malfoy Manor confirmed that all three Malfoys, to varying degrees, still looked down upon Muggle-borns, she also saw that none of them were interested in renewing hostilities at the moment. That would only change if the political climate went back to how it was before the war, but that was one of the things that Hermione was determined to prevent from happening.

"Of course I think Malfoy is part of this purported rebellion. He's always been of the mind that pure-bloods are superior to everyone else, and he can't be pleased with how his family's standing was affected after their side lost the war," Harry asserted.

"No, he's not pleased with that. That's why he's taking steps to mend his reputation," Hermione said confidentally.

"Is that what you think?"

Hermione nodded her head.

"And you can't see a more…sinister motive that he might have in asking you?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Harry. His paranoia about all things Malfoy was a bit unsettling. She had never been able to wean him from his distrust of Malfoy. For Harry, first impressions meant everything. Thankfully his first impression of her was positive enough even though she knew she must have come off as very bossy, and the years she spent as his friend had taught him to trust her in all things.

"You think he wants to kill me, don't you?" Harry didn't speak, but the way his eyes hardened at her words was all the response she needed. "Harry! I know Malfoy was a right git to us at Hogwarts—"

"He still is," Harry interjected.

"All right. He still is." Hermione didn't see any reason in arguing that point when it was true. "But think of what happened to his family during the war. They were practically prisoners in their own home. You saw it. They had given up so much for the cause of blood purity, and it got them nothing, not even one iota of respect from people on their own side. Malfoy's not going to go down that road again. Either way the war ended, he would have wound up being a loser. Trust me. If I thought that he was still a threat, I would have never said yes to him."

"Hermione, you're not listening to me. You've already come to your own conclusion and you've closed your mind on the subject. You need to be careful. He's dangerous, and if you refuse to take proper precautions, I'll—"

"What? You'll see Aurors to watch over me twenty-four hours a day?" Hermione asked. Harry refused to meet her eyes. "You would, wouldn't you? Tell me, are you in charge of the investigation?"

"No," he grounded out. "I want to be, but the higher-ups think I'm too biased to consider all angles."

"Good. That means you don't have the authority to set a watch on me. That's one less thing for me to worry about."

"Hermione! It would be for your own good!"

"What did I tell you about trying to make me do things for my own good, Harry?" Hermione stopped then and there. Her voice was beginning to sound shrill, even to her, and things had got tenser a lot faster than she had realized. She took a deep breath and tried to calm down.

Before she could speak again, Harry spoke up. "I don't trust him," he said softly. "You shouldn't either."

"I don't trust him. Not the way I trust you. You, I trust with my life. Him…well, I suppose I think of Malfoy as a sort of temporary ally, with an option to extend depending on whether our goals continue to be aligned. Right now, we both want the same thing…for our two sides to reconcile with one another so people don't have to worry about what might happen to them during the night. They worry about that too, you know. That was part of the reason why they pushed the marriage law through in the first place."

"I know," said Harry.

She looked at him fondly. "They're not letting you have anything to do with that particular investigation, are they?"

"No, they're not. I am not assigned to any case….evidently they want me to be on stand-by in case they needed me for anything." He pushed his glasses further up on his nose, a sign Hermione had learned to mean that he was feeling frustrated. "It's stupid, Hermione. I should be on the case. Instead, Givens—he's in charge—says that I'm too biased even though he has fucking Zabini working on it. I'm not half as biased as that arse."

"Maybe Zabini's the bait," Hermione suggested. "That would make sense. As a former pure-blood from Slytherin, if there is any pure-blood rebellion fermenting, then its members would be more likely to contact him than someone like you."

"I wouldn't trust him to be the bait," Harry said snidely. "He's almost as bad as Malfoy."

Hermione told him primly, "That attitude is precisely why Givens won't let you work on the investigation. I can't blame you for feeling frustrated though."

"I never said I was frustrated," said Harry.

"Not in so many words, but it's obvious to those who know you. You're not the type who wants to sit around and wait for something to happen." Hermione had just the thing that would keep Harry busy, and he would be happy to help her out with the little problem to boot. She had been meaning to go back to place wards that would alert her whenever if any magical visitors came to the Oaks' house. She hadn't had the time, but that was a task she could trust Harry with.

The only problem was in telling him as she would have to go into detail about everything that had happened. Hermione didn't want to say anything while at the Ministry because she didn't know who could be listening in. She harbored no illusions as to the fact that there were spies within the Ministry. Even if she found a place safe from such spies, there was always Shacklebolt, who was almost paranoid in making sure that no one was keeping any vital information from him. Though Hermione could appreciate his approach—it was one she would have adopted, albeit more subtly, if she were in his position—it was inconvenient for her. She didn't want to get the Ministry officially involved in this; she had made a promise to take care of the situation and that was what she was going to do. She decided the best course of action was to invite Harry to her flat, and Ron as well if he was available, and tell them about here suspicions there. She trusted her wards on her home; there were few wizards capable of breaking through them. That would do nicely.

"You know, I've been remiss in my duties as your friend. I'm sorry you've been so bored ever since you got back. If you're not busy, how about going to dinner? Now that is," Hermione asked.

"I'm not busy, and I'm fine with going to dinner, but I don't see how that's going to help," he said flatly.

"Well, if you're that bored, you can always help me out," Hermione said. "I've had loads to do lately and so I'm afraid I'm a bit behind schedule."

"I think I'd rather off myself than to do more research. Especially more research that has to be up to your exacting standards."

"You would rather die of boredom?" she asked.

"Yes, didn't I just say that?"

"Have I ever told you that you've become a bit of a drama queen over the years? Come on. I'll tell you about my research over dinner. Dinner at least has to be better than staying here, right?"

"I suppose so," he said grudgingly.

"Good. Is Ron around? It can be all three of us, together again."

"You know, it wasn't that long ago that we were together for breakfast at your place."

"Don't remind me. That wasn't the best way to wake up," said Hermione, wrinkling her nose as she remembered how truly awful her Monday had been. "Let's not talk about anything that will upset you like my impending nuptials over dinner, okay? I just want time to relax and spend time with my best friends."

"Does that work both ways? If so, let's not talk about me helping you with your research."

"Fine," she said. She rolled her eyes. Honestly, she thought that Harry would have matured enough to realize how important research was in his job. "Act as a sounding board for me, at least. I won't mention you helping me though you can feel free and volunteer after you hear how overloaded your best friend has been lately." Hermione knew that Harry would be eager to help her out once he heard what her research really entailed.

"Yeah, I'll volunteer for that right after I get that new hole in my head that I've been longing for," said Harry.

"Ha ha. Your sense of humor hasn't changed one bit."

"Yes. It's as good as ever."

"Which is to say, not at all."

"By your standards," Harry said evenly. He grinned at her. "But few people meet those, so I suppose I'm in good company."

"Speaking of those who fail to meet my standards for good humor," said Hermione, wanting to change the subject, "you never answered my question. Is Ron around?"

"No. He's not as diligent as me. He decided that if there isn't anything for him to do over here, then he would help George out over at the joke shop."

"You make that sound like a bad thing. At least he would rather help out someone who needs it than sit on his arse all day."

"There's a difference between helping George man the shop and helping you with your research. Trust me, he wouldn't be jumping up and down with joy if you asked him to start spending time in the library."

"Not all research is done in libraries. But enough of that. I've already promised not to bother you about that as research is so repugnant to you. Let's owl Ron and then go back to my office. I have a few things I want to pick up there before we leave for dinner."

"That's fine." Harry pulled out a piece of parchment and began scribbling a note to their friend. "So meet up at your flat? Or at a restaurant some place? Do you even have anything to cook over there? The last time I was there, both your fridge and your pantry looked pretty empty."

Hermione thought about what food she had at her flat. "I think I have everything for spaghetti," she said as she ticked off the ingredients inside her head. "Yes, yes I do. But if Ron could pick up some fresh bread on his way over, that would be great."

"Good idea." Harry finished writing his note and folded it up. He walked over to where his owl, Primera, had her perch in his office. He attached the note to her leg and then opened his window. "Just go home once you've delivered this to Ron," he told her. She gave a hoot before taking off.

"Shall we go then?" he asked as he turned around to face Hermione once more.

She nodded her acquiescence. "I don't suppose you have your Invisibility Cloak handy," she asked.

"Merlin no! Not with all those wards to dispel any sort of concealment charm," Harry said matter-of-factly. "No one who owns one wants to risk ruining it forever. They don't come cheap, you know." While he was speaking, he was cleaning up his office in preparation to leave for the evening.

"I know that, but I would think yours would stand up to those wards, if any could." Hermione stepped in to help Harry put away his remaining files.

He shrugged. "All the more reason not to risk it. Why? Scared that tomorrow's Prophet will have a feature of how you're still trying to carry on our torrid affair even though I've been with Ginny for years now and you've just become engaged to Malfoy?"

What the Prophet might print about her was the least of her concerns. Over the years, Hermione had accumulated a treasure trove of information about many of the reporters and the editors on the Prophet. While she didn't approve their news stories before being published—that was too much like censorship, something which she abhorred—her people there knew better than to print anything that would truly injure her public image. "You would think that eventually that story would get old. I don't see how it's still news."

"It's news once more because of you. You only have yourself to blame."

"Piffle."

"Oh, witty come back there." Everything in his office was now put away. Harry held open the door for Hermione and she walked through it, followed by him. He charmed the door shut behind him and then offered her his arm.

She looked at it suspiciously. "Harry! Are you trying to be fodder for more gossip?" she asked sharply.

"I can't avoid it so I've decided that I would rather choose what sort of gossip will be spun about me." He waggled her eyebrows at her. "Me being such a charming wizard that no witch can resist my charms…that's the sort of rumor that I want to be going around about me."

She swatted his arm away. "And what does your lovely girlfriend have to say about your would-be philandering ways?"

"It's just you, Hermione, so Ginny knows that there's nothing between us like that."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that. There was a time when I thought that she was rather jealous of me," Hermione said glibly. She knew perfectly well that Ginny had been jealous of her when they were younger, but the other witch had eventually got over that feeling. Still Hermione wasn't too fond of Ginny; she was too much like her mother and wanted to tell everyone how to run their lives. If Harry wasn't so taken with the other witch, Hermione would have found a way to exclude her from their lives a long time ago so she wouldn't have to deal with such an interfering little wench.

He inclined his head at her. "Yes, but she's grown up since then. We all have. I hope you don't still hold that against her. You yourself made mistakes like that." He coughed then mumbled something that suspiciously sounded like Lockhart.

She swatted his arm again. "Stop that. And no, I don't hold that against her…she was only a girl back then, and jealousy is a trap that even grown women can fall into. Come on now, Harry, let's get going. Ron will be starving by the time we reaches my place, so let's make sure we get there with enough time to have a head start on his appetite.

"That's impossible," he said, "as for that we would have had to start cooking this morning." But he followed willingly enough as Hermione led the way back to her office. The two of them traded jokes as they walked through the Ministry, though Hermione couldn't shake the feeling of being watched for most of the journey. That was not surprising as she knew why people were staring, but it was very uncomfortable for her. During the war, Hermione had done her best to hone her instincts for when she was being observed so to constantly be looked at by other people really set her nerves on edge. There was little she could do to remedy the situation though, especially as Harry proved to be uncooperative about testing his Invisibility Cloak to see if it could survive all the dispelling wards. So she smiled at Harry while he spoke and laughed at the appropriate spots even though what she felt like doing was whipping out her wand and hexing all those who were staring at her.

"And that was when Ron had the sense to ask just what was in the pastry he had eaten only a moment before," said Harry. He was laughing so hard he could hardly speak.

"What was in it?" Hermione asked. "And hasn't Ron learned by now that he shouldn't trust anything that George stocks in that shop of his?"

"Frankly, I'm surprised that you haven't concluded by now that Weasley is incapable of learning at all," a familiar lazy drawl stated, interrupting them.

"Malfoy," Harry snarled in greeting. It was almost frightening how Harry's entire demeanor changed when he encountered someone he believed to be a threat.

She elbowed him discreetly. His eyes shifted over to meet hers, and she gave him a look telling him to stop it at once. "Good afternoon, Draco," she said, remembering just in time to use his first name. "How are you?"

"Fine," he replied cordially.

"Let's stop this nonsense. Get to the point, Malfoy. Why are you here?"

It was all Hermione could do to not stomp Harry's foot. He could be very exasperating at times. She had already warned him to behave, yet he persisted in this sort of behavior.

"Just dropping in to see my lovely fiancée at her place of work. Is that so hard to believe?" asked Malfoy.

Harry narrowed his eyes at the smirking blond wizard. "How do you even know where Hermione works? She's an Unspeakable, and the location of her office is not common knowledge and…"

Hermione rolled her eyes. Obviously Malfoy had his own sources within the Ministry that had told him where her office was located. With any luck, those sources would soon be willing to work with her as well, but not if they had reason to believe that she and Malfoy were at odds. "Harry! Stop being so rude!" Hermione reprimanded her friend. "Why wouldn't Malfoy know where my office is?"

Harry turned to look at her, horror etched over his face. "Hermione! Do you mean to say that you told him yourself?"

She crossed her arms and looked away. "I'm not going to answer that. That's really not relevant."

"No, it's not. Really Potter, isn't it time to let go of old grudges?" Hermione was grateful that Malfoy didn't see fit to goad Harry on by dropping hints that the Malfoy name still carried weight with some employees of the Ministry. Harry was no fool; he knew that already. Hermione was certain that Harry blamed that as one of the reasons why he wasn't currently assigned to any open investigations as an Auror.

"I think it's time to move on, but it's remarkable how many people want to cling to old ideals. I am sure you're well-acquainted with them," Harry said snidely. That earned Harry another sharp elbow to his side. This time when his eyes met Hermione's, she sent him a pleading look, before letting her eyes drift around the hallway to all the spots where people were watching them from. This time he complied with the message she had sent to him and backed down.

"What Harry is trying to say here is that if you know anything that might help him, he would appreciate it very much, Draco," said Hermione, stepping in between the two wizards. Harry had a sudden, violent coughing fit which she ignored. "Is there anything in particular you wanted to see me about?"

"Not really." He shrugged. "I was going to ask you to dinner if you don't have any plans. My parents would love to see you again."

Hermione repressed a shudder. She did not want to suffer the hospitality of Narcissa Malfoy any time soon. "Sorry to disappoint you," she said, "but I've already agreed to have dinner with Harry and Ron."

"That's a pity. Tomorrow perhaps?" he asked again.

That was still too soon for her liking. "I'm busy all this week, I'm afraid," she said. She didn't really think that counted as a lie; while it wasn't currently true, it would be once she finished making plans that would keep her away from Malfoy Manor for the rest of the week. At the moment, she wanted to take advantage of their location and bully Malfoy to agree to meet her own parents. He couldn't very well say no with everyone watching and have them believe that he had truly left his old beliefs about the superiority of pure-bloods behind. "But that reminds me. My mum has been after me for not inviting you over sooner. Would next week work for you? Either Tuesday or Thursday would do," she said.

A flicker of revulsion crossed Malfoy's face as though he had swallowed a bitter pill. "Thursday would be good. I'll be looking forward to it."

"Your parents can come too, if they like," Hermione added. She thought it was a stroke of brilliance. Malfoy almost choked when she said that.

"No, no, I wouldn't want to impose on your parents' hospitality."

"Oh it's no bother. My parents enjoy having guests over, and they do want to meet your parents before the wedding."

"We will have to arrange that for some other time," Malfoy insisted. "I don't think my parents will be available next week."

Hermione heaved a sigh, looking to all the world as though she was greatly disappointed. "Could you ask them? So I can let my mum know how many people to plan for. If they can't come next week, just let me know when would be a good time. Or we could all visit the manor if you would prefer." Hermione could have gone on in this vein forever—Malfoy's reactions were too funny—but this time she was the one who suffered an elbow in her ribs. When she glanced over at Harry, his eyes were clearly telling her to stop playing with the Slytherin.

She smiled at Harry, then shrugged. Oh well. She had her fun, and now it was time to stop. They were running late as it is if they wanted to eat dinner at a decent hour. And it was rather important that she talk to her friends about what she had learned from her visit with those Muggles.

If it wasn't so urgent, she would have invited Malfoy over to dinner with her and the boys. Between watching him trying to figure out how things in a Muggle kitchen worked while being insulted discreetly throughout the whole ordeal by Harry and Ron—well, Hermione would think that Malfoy's face would soon be as red as Ron's hair from the exertion. She supposed it was just as well. Given Harry's reaction upon seeing Malfoy, she would have to work with her boys to ensure they would behave properly when he was around. Hermione knew that eventually all of them would be spending time in the public eye together, and when that happened, the last thing she wanted was for a fight to break out between her fiancé and her best friends.

* * *

**Author's note:** Thanks so much for reading. Reviews--short or long, good or bad--would be very much appreciated so I know how I'm doing. : )

I would also like to thank Chrystal Slara, kazfeist, medusaasaphoenix, bananna15, Jaid Ziaen, lilmzhln18, blakmoon-nl, misssweetsweet, iluv2dance, shat, allycat1186, shobbs, akyansha, oneamsoundstage, and Midnight Little One for reviewing the last chapter. Thanks so much. Reviews always make my day.


	7. Double Blind Nil

**Ambition's End: Double Blind Nil**

**Disclaimer: **These characters still are not mine.

* * *

"Here you are sir." The serving wench plopped down a tankard of the cheap swill the current pub he was at called beer. It was severely watered down, too weak to get any but the soppiest of sops drunk. He nodded his thanks at her and took a drink. He grimaced. He really needed to start remembering to bring a flask of his own if he was going to keep on patronizing fine establishments such as this one.

Draco reflected how it was a shame that the so-called dark side tended to meet in such dank and unsanitary places as the one he sat in now. He couldn't tell when was the last time the tables had been thoroughly cleaned, if ever, and there was a most unappealing smell that hung in the air. All in all, it had all the earmarks one would expect of a meeting place of secret group who sought to overthrow the current government. Draco had no intentions of joining that group, even if he might have once sympathized with their cause. No any group that wanted his support would have to meet in a posh club. One could hide there just as well as in here if not better; certainly had they been meeting in any decent spot, people would assume that the privacy wards cast were to hide meetings of a different sort. Draco would rather have a reputation for being debauched than having to subject himself to rank pubs on a regular basis.

He sighed softly as he stared at his mug. He didn't really want to take another drink out of it. He wondered if his efforts would ever be rewarded. He had taken to visiting several watering holes like this one, complaining loudly at all of them about having to take a damn Mudblood for a wife, hoping that someone would contact him. It was dangerous for him to do so because Draco knew that if he gauged any particular pub's residents wrong, he might be waking up one morning to the sounds of Aurors raiding the manor. But Draco took care, bypassing a couple of places where there were patrons who felt off, and as far as he knew, he had not been sighted by any Auror in disguise yet. All in all, he was beginning to doubt that there was a group of his peers who were serious about getting rid of Potter and his friends. Most of his fellow Slytherins had better sense than that. Besides, if there were such a group, Draco would feel personally insulted that they had not approached him sooner. His family was among the staunchest supporters the former Dark Lord had. That fact led everyone else to assume that none of them were sincere in letting go of the old pure-blood philosophy. Certainly Potter would be too willing to curse him if Draco gave that wanker the chance. Yet if this rumored pure-blood rebellion did exist, they were the only ones out there who thought Draco was in earnest about becoming more tolerant of Muggle-borns as his support hadn't been solicited at all by them. He made a face as he took another drink from his mug. It would be terribly ironic but of the sort he couldn't appreciate.

A shadow fell across his table. "You're not one I would expect to see here," said Marcus Flint as he sat down across from Draco.

Draco shrugged in reply.

"But then you were the last person I would expect to comply with that thrice-damned law those idiots rammed through the Ministry. A law your father helped passed, if I remember correctly." Bitterness colored Flint's voice, and Draco knew that this was it. Finally that stupid group had got around to contacting him.

"Father is feeling his age," Draco said by way of apology. "He says he's too old to continue the fight."

"Well you seemed to have resigned yourself to a life of misery with that buck-toothed Mudblood. Everyone has heard how you've been cavorting around with her."

Draco smirked. "If it makes any member of the Golden Trio miserable, then that's enough to make me happy."

"Were you raised to set your sights so low?" asked Flint.

"Meaning?"

"Just what I said."

Draco furrowed his brow as he considered the other wizard's words. "Unfortunately my parents have made it clear to me that I am not allowed to be the last of my line. So I have little choice." He shrugged eloquently. "Especially as it seems that said law won't be repealed any time soon."

"There are ways around that law." Flint looked around and then moved his head closer to Draco, lowering his voice. "If you're interested that is."

Draco chuckled bitterly. "You mean by leaving the country? So sorry to disappoint you, Flint, but the Ministry was able to get the agreement of the international community that marriages between British citizens wouldn't be permitted in other countries if in said marriage wouldn't be allowed here. So trying to run off and marry a pure-blood witch in Romania won't work."

"I see that you're still thinking inside the box, Malfoy. You're playing by their rules. You can't win that way. You got to make your own rules if you want to be successful in this world," Flint said.

"Like you used to do in Quidditch?"

"Something along those lines."

"I see _you've_become cryptic in your old age."

"Do I have to spell it out for you, Malfoy?" Flint shook his head. "So there's a law on the books that says you can't marry a pure-blood witch. You won't allow yourself to be the last of your line. So what do you do if you don't want to comply with said law?"

Comprehension began to dawn on Draco. "That's…"

"Absolutely brilliant. I bet you wished you thought of that one yourself." Flint leaned back in his seat, looking inordinately pleased with himself.

"I was going to say mad. Where do you plan on finding a witch who is willing to go along with that?"

"Again you think too small," said Flint. "There are plenty of pure-blood witches who are in despair over that law as well. After all it means that they as well will have to charm a half-blood or Muggle-born wizard into asking for them, when they've been raised to expect a union with a pure-blood wizard."

"That's true but they've also been raised to expect such union to occur within the bounds of marriage, not outside of it."

"Desperate times call for desperate measures. There are pure-blood witches out there who are willing to consent to…shall we say an unconventional relationship? In exchange for the wizard's promise to look after them and any progeny that may result from that relationship."

"Just a promise?" Draco asked in disbelief. "I would think that any witch in her right mind would not ask for anything less than an Unbreakable Vow in order to agree to that sort of a proposition."

"That treads too close to an actual marriage so that's not possible. Besides the whole point of having such a relationship is to make sure your line doesn't end with you. Of course a wizard in that position would look his children."

"And you've found a witch to agree to this scheme?"

Flint looked at him with pity upon his face. "Daphne Greengrass has decided that I'm good enough for her."

Draco wisely held his tongue and didn't mention that another witch had not cared for Flint's affections one bit.

"There are others out there who have agreed to such arrangements with other wizards. I am not at liberty to name any names."

"And if the marriage law should ever be repealed? What then?"

"I would expect that if that ever happened, a wizard would marry his witch."

"But no promises about that either." Draco thought that any witch settling for so little in a relationship was a fool. She wasn't getting any of the protections of marriage; she was settling for being a mere concubine. If he had a sister, he would not allow her to enter into that sort of an arrangement. He would lock her up and throw away the key if she even thought about it seriously, and furthermore he would curse any wizard who made such an offer to her, though he was certain his father would beat him to the punch.

"No, no promises about that either. Not because of lack of will to do so but rather because it skirts too closely to being a sort of betrothal to pass muster."

"Convenient that."

"Isn't it though?"

"Wouldn't it be better though to end this damn marriage law? I for one would prefer my future children not to be illegitimate."

"Again you're thinking inside the box, following all of the rules that they made." Resentment laced Flint's voice. It literally dripped with the pain of rejection. "Our parents and grandparents thought only of their own skins and not with what we would have to endure, what we would have to live with."

"They're scared of Potter. If Potter's gone…"

"That would be a different story. But frankly there's no one that I know who can take Potter out. The Dark Lord couldn't do that. I don't know any fool who defeat him. Maybe one day…but not now."

"That's a disappointment. Here I thought that—"

"That your housemates are a bunch of fools? We're not. Cowards maybe, but cowards who will pick and choose the time we fight. And now is not our time, no matter what people may think."

"So no plans to off Potter?"

Flint grinned mockingly at him. "That would fulfill all your wildest dreams, now wouldn't it Malfoy? There aren't any plots against Potter."

"That's not what I heard," said Malfoy, focusing his stare on the other wizard. "I've heard that there are many who would love to take him down."

"That much is true. Certainly you and I would both like to see him go. But we're not actually going to act against him. If he sees constant plots against him…well he manufactures those on his own. His name is synonymous with paranoia."

Draco nodded noncommittally. There was a good deal of truth in what Flint was telling him but Draco wasn't naïve enough to think that the other wizard was telling him the whole truth. Flint didn't trust him; that much was certain. For whatever reason Flint and his associates had decided that Draco couldn't be trusted, otherwise they would have approached him sooner. He would act as though he believed the other wizard although he didn't think that he would take part in whatever scheme was brewing. Certainly their surroundings weren't very attractive, and more importantly, Draco had a feeling that Flint's ultimate scheme would blow up in his face in the end. However it was absolutely imperative that Draco knew what was going on so he could act appropriately.

"Potter always did think that the world was out to get him," Draco finally said.

"That he did." Flint stood up. "Well that was all I was intending to say to you." He started to leave. "By the way, have you spoken to Pansy Parkinson since your engagement was announced?"

Draco shook his head.

"You were once rumored to be very close. Maybe you should talk to her." Flint strode away from the table after making that suggestion without a single look back. Draco didn't wait to follow suit. The hour was late, and he wanted to get home as soon as possible. He didn't fancy staying in this pig sty any longer than he had to.

* * *

"Darling, where have you been?" Narcissa Malfoy crinkled up her nose as Draco walked past where she was sitting. "You positively reek!"

"I am sorry, Mother," he said contritely. "My earlier surroundings seemed to have rubbed off on me. I will take care of that straight away." Stiffly he headed towards his room so he could clean up.

"Stop right there, you silly boy!" she commanded him as she took out her wand. "There are spells for that. If it was important enough for you to visit some place that smells like that, then it is also important enough for you to share with your mother what you have learned."

"It isn't much that I have learned," Draco replied. "More's the pity, given how much time I have had to spend in such places."

"Then the more valuable your information must be, if it wasn't easy to come by."

Draco knew by the look in his mother's eyes that she wouldn't allow him to leave the room without divulging what he had learned. He fell gracelessly onto a seat near her before speaking. "One of my contacts at the Ministry was so good to inform me of rumors that some pure-bloods are seeking revenge upon Potter and his friends."

"The Ministry is still concerning itself with that? I suppose Potter's paranoia is only matched by that of Shacklebolt," his mother noted dryly. "Such paranoia undoubtedly served them well during the war…but now is not then and circumstances are different."

"Undoubtedly," he agreed, "and my contact also informed me that I was a prime suspect."

"What a loyal contact you must have made to give you warning about that. A job well done, my dear, on securing that source," she said, congratulating him.

"Thank you. I must confess that was more luck than anything."

"It took perseverance as well, I am certain. Never doubt that I have not realized how much standing we have lost throughout the Wizarding World. But go on." She waved a hand languidly at him, indicating he was to continue his tale.

"Seeing how various parties were assuming that I was naturally part of whatever scheme was brewing, I thought that it would be prudent for me to find out what exactly was going on," he explained.

"I hope that you do not plan on joining any of your peers in plotting against the current government and its allies. We were very luck to escape relatively unscathed; our influence has been diminished but that is all. Do try to learn from the past, darling," his mother told him.

"I intend to. Better than you and Father did the first time around." His reply was harsher than he had intended but it irked him to no end that she would lecture him on the value of prudence when neither of his parents exercised that after the first war had ended. "But enough of that," he continued before his mother could respond. "That is in the past, and I am speaking of the present. I wanted to know about what trap was being planned for whom, if any did exist, so I wouldn't be caught by surprise when it was sprung. It has not escaped my notice that both Father and I would be perfect targets to pin the blame on."

His mother looked down at her folded hands. "I wish I could gainsay you in that but I cannot. People are so eager to believe the worst of our entire family. You were right in seeking out that information; we need to make adequate preparations should anything be in the works. What were you unable to uncover?"

"A very bad idea on how to circumvent the marriage law." He smiled wryly. "I spoke with Flint—my old Quidditch captain, in case you have forgotten—and he assured me that none of them are fool enough to take Potter on in a duel."

"And you believed him?"

"No, of course not. Anyone who plays Quidditch professionally can't be all right in the head. But if he's involved, I doubt that they will ever get past the scheming phase and into the execution phase."

"That was a horrible pun, my dear." His mother wrinkled her nose in distaste for his choice in words. "So out of curiosity, what was this horrid idea Flint had for circumventing the marriage law?"

"He basically said that the law only prevented him from marrying a pure-blood witch, not from having one bear him heirs." Draco was treated to a rare sight then. His mother's jaw actually gaped in disbelief. She tried several times to say something, but could not, so flabbergasted she was at the idea.

"That is what he thinks is a good way to get around the marriage law?" she said incredulously. "To purposefully have bastards to carry on his family's name? Bastards who would be looked down upon because they have parents who so flagrantly flaunted the Ministry's authority, who so obviously were not willing to try to adapt to the changing circumstances in the Wizarding World?" She shook her head. "It is not the fact that he suggested that an illegitimate child could be an heir. That has happened in the past to other families, although never by design. But to put your children in such a weakened position, where the odds would be stacked against them…"

Draco did not mention that was exactly what his parents had wound up doing to him. Because they clung to the Dark Lord even though he had been defeated by a babe, he was now in an untenable position where it was hard to find anyone willing to work with him. He had been very lucky to secure Granger's hand in marriage. He was not going to let that chance go to waste.

"I don't see how any self-respecting witch would agree to such a proposition. I would not. My parents would have not allowed it. If any of your sisters had survived, we would have forbidden it," his mother was saying.

"Apparently Daphne Greengrass has agreed to that scenario with Flint," Draco informed her.

"I always did worry about what sort of values Alma was instilling in her daughter. I guess now I know. They shall be struck from the guest list for all my parties at once. Not that they had attended any recently, or even had the decency to reply and let me know that they were not going to be present." Suddenly, his mother's mood lightened. "But let's move on, shall we? Speaking of guest lists has reminded me of something else. Earlier today we all received an invitation to your old friend Theodore Nott's wedding." She smiled brilliantly at Draco.

"That's right. He was one of the first to settle on marrying a Muggle-born witch," said Draco.

"Yes, and we hadn't received an invitation until now even though the two of you used to play together when you were little boys. Another sign, I fear, of how little our peers think of us. Or thought of us. Ever since your betrothal was announced to that witch, old friends have been more willing to approach me to the point where I can almost accept your fiancée," she concluded.

"Should I take that to mean that you wish to meet her parents then?" Draco asked, thinking of the invitation Hermione had issued the day before.

"I do believe that I said that I was on the verge of accepting her, not that I've taken complete leave of my senses. I will play nice at the actual wedding. I hope your bride is clever enough not to expect more than that."

"Just making sure, Mother, that you aren't amenable to the invitation Granger extended for us to meet their parents at their home today."

"I would have thought the girl had more sense. Of course the answer is no," his mother said swiftly.

"She found it amusing to play the fool in front of the whole Ministry," Draco noted. "I doubt that anyone watching expected me to say that we would be there."

The color drained from his mother's face. "And what did you say to her? I hope you didn't insult her in front of an audience."

"No. As much fun as it is to do so, I wouldn't do that. Not when I'm trying to convince the world that I've fallen in love and given up the old ways. I told her that it was not possible for my parents to attend as they are out of the country," he said.

"A good reply, and one that I shall make no lie," said Narcissa. "Your bride plays very well. You will have to go, but at least your father and I are spared the agony of having to visit her Muggle parents."

Puzzled at her response, Draco looked at his mother. She seemed to be completely serious. "What do you mean?"

"As you said, everyone did expect you to say no. Everyone also expects for your answer to be a not so little white lie, that your father and I are in residence at the Manor, but won't deign to visit a pair of Muggles."

"That's true," he pointed out.

"It is for now. It won't be by tomorrow evening, I promise. Draco, darling, you have done wonderfully well in improving our family's status in such a short amount of time. Your father and I could stay here without doing much damage to the work you have done. However, if it is learned that we actually aren't in the country…" She shrugged her shoulders eloquently. "Then you have told the truth and our standing increases that much more for the people who thought you lied. Perhaps next time you tell them a falsehood, they will assume it to be a truth."

"I think it will take much more than that for people to start talking a Malfoy at his word, Mother."

"I agree. It will be a gradual process. I have the choice, however, to either begin that process now or put it off for even later. But darling, I cannot stress enough how important it is to make your plans as complete as possible. You need to account for all possibilities and have a plan in place to deal with them if they occur. Take this for example. Yes your father and I could very well stay here and make it seem as though we are not as sincere about reconciliation with you are. What if someone else was to find out about your meeting with Flint? What sort of conclusions would they draw? Nothing very favorable towards us, of that I am certain. On the other hand, if your parents make your little white lie the truth, then anyone finding out about your meeting will be more willing to give you the benefit of the doubt."

Suddenly she clenched her fists in aggravation. "A thought just occurred to me. I do not think Miss Granger made that offer entirely in jest. She probably would prefer to see me far away while she constructs the wedding plans."

"I think you're really overreacting here, Mother." Draco leaned forward in his seat, searching for the right words to convince his mother that she didn't need to do what she was suggesting. He didn't want his parents to leave as Granger would inevitably see that as a sort of victory. "I, for one, do not see the need for you to flee the Manor and I am certain that Father will agree with me once you put the idea to him."

"He will do as I ask," replied his mother grimly. "If for no other reason than to avoid being drawn into the decorating plans." She smiled at that thought.

"You're handing Granger a victory this way. Is that what you really want to do?" he asked.

"No, not really. Yet I doubt she would have included me at this stage in planning the wedding, and there are benefits to us making your lie a truth. Besides, even though this skirmish may be a loss, there are ways to win the battle," she said. A faraway look appeared in her eyes, and Draco knew that she was thinking of different scenarios for her return. "I imagine if I return with the latest of Paris fashions, then she may be more open to my help. That might not even be needed; after she has tried to plan the wedding with what contacts she has in the Wizarding World, she might be more than willing to ask me to aid her. Yes, I think that might very well happen if I play my cards right." Her eyes refocused and she turned her gaze to rest on her son. "Never forget that a temporary loss is perfectly acceptable if it means that one will win in the long run."

A calculating glint entered her eyes. "You know, Draco, if you need someone else to look over your plans, you could bring them to me. I am very observant and am very much used to manufacturing schemes, as you should know. I am not saying this to insult you darling, but it is terribly difficult for one person to ensure a plan is complete."

"Thank you, Mother. I will keep your offer in mind," Draco replied stiffly. He appreciated her offer, he really did, but he wasn't going to accept it. He couldn't continue to rely upon his mother to point out the flaws of whatever scheme he was working on. He would simply have to learn how to better prepare for his plans changing as things played out differently than he thought they would.

* * *

It was a bit disconcerting how Muggles ignored her when she used her strongest Disillusionment charm. She could be standing amongst them in broad daylight, and they would simply walk around her, never realizing that she was in their midst. Hiding in plain sight, it was, and it always felt too easy to Hermione. Invisibility should take more work than a simple wave of the wand and a couple of words.

Carefully she traced a pattern in the air, casting an analysis spell that would allow her to see the net of wards Harry and Ron had placed on the Oaks' house only the day before. Hermione had revealed to her old friends the task Minerva had laid out for her and what she had found out when she visited the Muggles. Both had been flabbergasted. Ron especially could not conceive of anyone revealing so much of the Wizarding World and its recent history to Muggles. Hermione could understand where he was coming from; all pure-bloods were taught from a young age that it was of the utmost importance that Muggles not find out about the Wizarding World. It was another reminder to her how hard it would be to change such attitudes and convince everyone that there was no reason to continue hiding from Muggles, particularly when Muggles were the source for many wizards and witches. She supposed it was a sign of how desperate that pure-blood group must be. They had lost so much influence within the Ministry that in order to keep Muggle-borns out of Hogwarts, they found it necessary to scare them away with lurid tales of the Wizarding World.

Hermione patiently waited for the outlines of all the wards to appear. It took several minutes but finally she was able to look at them all. There was a basic surveillance charm by the door, which would record the faces of all who visited the Muggles. By the windows were wards that would report if any strange owls delivered letters to the Oaks. Her boys were thorough and covered the chimney as well. Finally there was another ward by the door that would record what times magic use was sensed around the house.

Unfortunately there was currently no way to tell if the magic being used was merely accidental magic being released by the young witch or a spell purposefully cast by someone else. A good part of Hermione's research as an Unspeakable was focused on finding a way to tell who had cast a spell. She thought it was ludicrous that there was no reliable method to tell who had cast a spell simply by looking at the spell's results. One could try testing the wands of everyone who could have possibly cast a spell, but that took a lot of time and would only show what the last spell each wand was used for. Veritaserum could be employed as well, but that was expensive and time-consuming. Forensics was a limited science in the Wizarding World and mostly focused on removing any spells that altered something's natural state. Hence Hermione had convinced Shacklebolt that advances were needed in that area, and he had willingly hired her on as an Unspeakable on that basis. She had made good progress in concocting a series of analysis charms that could tell who was responsible for any particular spell, but she was still a long way away from something that could be used in the field reliably.

Her examination finished, Hermione released her analysis spell. She proceeded to her next task, which was setting up wards to protect the Oaks from any magical harm. It was possible that the wizard would panic upon hearing that Hermione had paid the Muggles a visit and then take steps to ensure the Muggles would never reveal his identity. As much as Hermione was frustrated with Mrs. Oaks' inability to see that her daughter belonged in the Wizarding World, she didn't actually wish for her or her family to come to any harm. So Hermione cast another surveillance charm that would immediately alert her if any dark magic was used near the house, along with a couple of protection wards that should keep the Muggles safe until help could arrive. After that was done Hermione began to hide her spell work along with that of Harry and Ron's. Most wizards wouldn't know the necessary spells to reveal the protection and surveillance wards but there were some out there. Hermione didn't want the Oaks' contact to find out that their visitors and correspondence were being monitored. It was tricky work. It took Hermione almost an hour and a half before she was finished. She cast her analysis spell once more and was pleased to see that nothing was revealed. Now all she had to do was to wait. She was positive that whoever had informed the Oaks about the Wizarding World in the first place would soon be making another stop by their house.

Satisfied with the spells she had cast would hold and go undetected, Hermione left to return to the closest Apparation point. She walked at a brisk pace as she had other plans for the evening. Given how openly hostile Harry had been when Malfoy confronted them last week at the Ministry, she and Malfoy had agreed that it was too soon for her to ask her two closest friends to join them for dinner one evening. However the two of them still had to appear as a couple somewhere public at least once this week; Hermione had readily agreed to Malfoy's demand that they start doing things as a couple because that would make the story they were spinning more believable. If Hermione had thought about it a bit more, instead of inviting Malfoy over to her parents' house, she would have arranged for the meeting to occur at a Muggle restaurant. Unfortunately she had been too busy teasing Draco as much as she could to really think ahead.

Hermione shook her head as she neared the Apparition point. There was no point in berating herself for not being more forward thinking now, and besides she had to get used to spending time with Malfoy. She really wanted to become comfortable with being around him and have him become comfortable around her as well. She had many goals that she wanted to accomplish, and Hermione didn't want to waste any precious time or effort over needless arguments with her future husband. The time they spent together now would be useful in getting to know Malfoy, particularly his weaknesses so she could better pull his strings. A smile crept across her face as she considered how amusing it would be if the wizard wound up falling for her.

Having reached her destination, Hermione dropped her Disillusionment charm and proceeded to return back to her flat. She glanced at the clock and was very glad that she had hurried home as quickly as she did. She had enough time to take a proper shower before meeting Malfoy and her friends for dinner. While it was too soon to ask Harry and Ron to spend time with Malfoy in public, Hermione had other close friends who could be counted on not to make a scene. She had asked Katie and Neville to join them for this evening, and they had both agreed.

One thing that Hermione was looking forward to was how productive this evening could be. Not only would she be appearing in public with Malfoy, she would also be able to gauge how well Katie interacted with Malfoy given the story she had fed the other witch about how Malfoy persuaded her to accept his proposal. In addition to that Hermione had every intention of trying to pair up her two friends. She felt it would be an ideal match. Neville was a sweet young man and he could help Katie finally get over Flint. Furthermore Katie's natural exuberance and optimism would do Neville a world of good and might even increase his self-confidence.

Seeing how she still had over an hour before she had to meet everyone at the restaurant, Hermione allowed herself the luxury of a long shower. There was a slight ache in her shoulders, and it felt good as the hot water washed over her. She stepped out barely in time to avoid her fingers drying up like prunes. As she dried herself off Hermione reflected that she had taken longer in the shower than she probably should have but it was all right. After all long showers were a luxury she rarely allowed herself.

Hermione moved in to her bedroom in order to finish getting ready. She had learned a few tricks since the Yule Ball back in fourth year when it came to preparing to go out. While Hermione usually didn't bother too much with how she looked, she had come to understand how valuable looking good could be and she was very willing to exploit that as an advantage when it suited her. With a wave of her wand, she pinned up her hair to get it out of the way while she put on her robes and make-up. Her hair, as always, was a bushy mess and so she left that for last.

The robes she had selected for the evening were a bright red. She had grown fond of the color over the years. Not only was it one of her House colors, it also complimented her skin and brought out the natural highlights in her hair. She next proceeded to put on her make-up. Thankfully that was a much easier task when magic got involved; she didn't have to worry about any powder accidentally floating down to fall on her robes. Only when that was done did she turn her attention to her hair. With a sigh she started casting the series of five interlocking charms that she had developed to tame it down. It was better than using bottles and bottles of Sleekeazy's but only just. At least it was more reliable and would last until she removed the spells. Hermione's last task before leaving was to switch handbags into a smaller one that match her robes. Once that was finished, she did one final check and then Apparated to Zephyr, the restaurant they would all be meeting at tonight.

She arrived in the atrium of Zephyr, which had been set aside specifically as an Apparition point for their guests. A short hallway connected it to the central lobby, and before long Hermione found herself waiting in line to give her name to the head waiter. When she did so she was informed that one member of her party had already arrived, and she was promptly escorted to their table.

"Hermione! It's good to see you again." Neville rose from his seat to greet her.

"Thanks," she said in reply. "It has been awhile since we last saw each other, hasn't it?"

"Is everything all right? I was worried when I first heard the news," he asked.

"Oh everything is more than all right. I'm sorry that I was so brief in my replies. There were just so many owls I had to answer, and I knew that the news of my betrothal would be hard to believe, much less the fact that I am very happy with it," she replied.

He tilted his head to better examine her countenance. "Are you happy?"

"Yes. More than words can say." She nodded her head decisively. She believed every word she had just said, although her old friend probably couldn't begin to guess at the reasons why she was happy with the betrothal.

"If you're happy then that's what matters the most. I can't help but thinking that this is a mistake…but the Hermione I know doesn't make mistakes, so I'll ignore that feeling as best I can," said Neville.

"Thanks," she replied. Hermione knew that Neville would wind up accepting the fact that she was to marry Malfoy. He trusted her and was used to deferring to her judgment. There had been a brief period of time when she had considered him as a potential husband for her. However neither his fortune nor his network amongst pure-bloods was as large as Malfoy's. Besides Neville didn't have the right personality for her purposes. He was still shy and reticent, and he didn't like the spotlight at all. While her ultimate choice would be harder to manage than Neville, he was also a much better fit for her purposes.

"Have you been waiting long?" asked Hermione as they settled in to their seats.

"No, not too long," said Neville. "I know I arrived early, but my interview finished sooner than I expected and so…"

"Interview? I wasn't aware that you were interviewing for any positions," said Hermione.

"That's because I haven't told anyone, not even my Gran. Wouldn't want to get her hopes up only to disappoint her."

"Neville, no matter what you do with your life, that old woman has no reason to ever be disappointed in you," she told him warmly.

He flushed under her praise. "Thanks," he stammered. He was interrupted from continuing by the arrival of another member of their party. As Neville jolted up to his feet as he greeted Katie, Hermione thought to herself how rare it was to see a wizard with proper manners. Certainly Malfoy's manners left much to be desired for.

"Hello Katie," said Hermione, shaking herself out of her slight reverie. "You remember Neville, don't you? He was in my year at Hogwarts."

"Yes I do. It's nice to see you again," replied Katie with a smile for both of them as she sat down.

Hermione quirked an eyebrow in Neville's direction. She wondered if he would be willing to continue what he was going to say earlier, or if he didn't want to share his news with Katie, who he didn't know very well. She inclined her head towards him, indicating that it was his decision.

"So I was just telling Hermione about my interview this afternoon," he said hesitantly.

"Oh! Did it go well? I hope so," Katie responded brightly.

"Yes it did. As I told Hermione, I didn't tell anyone beforehand because it would have made me nervous thinking of their expectations. No that's not right. It would have made me more nervous. I was shaking with fear when I met with McGonagall today."

"You're going to work at Hogwarts?" asked Hermione. She was barely able to contain her excitement at the idea. She would need another contact within the school once Minerva retired, and Neville would be perfect for the role.

"It appears that I will. Professor Sprout is feeling her age and is looking to retire soon. The idea is that I will help teach Herbology for the next couple of years as a sort of apprentice teacher," he said.

"That's a great idea. That way you can see how she makes her lesson plans, grades assignments, and all of that," said Hermione approvingly. She knew that one of Minerva's biggest concerns outside of the declining enrollment at Hogwarts was ensuring that the quality of education was the highest possible. Training replacement professors before the current ones retired was an excellent idea.

"Yes," said Neville. "And I can also make sure that this is the job for me."

"I hear that in a few years many of our professors will have retired," said Katie. "It's a real changing of the guard. Makes me feel old though. I mean there are already students out there who never had to suffer through Potions with Snape."

"And we all know how much you _detest_ Slytherins. You've never been willing to give any of us a fair shake." All three of them looked up to the source of that comment. Marcus Flint had stalked up to their table, and he was glaring at each of them in turn.

The entire room fell silent as everyone waited to see what would happen. No one wanted to miss any fireworks, and given the past between Flint and Katie, everyone expected some rather spectacular ones at that. Hermione inwardly cursed the other wizard. Of course he had to show up and ruin her introduction of Neville to Katie. She was the only one to glare back at him as Katie was too choked to react and Neville sat frozen in shock.

"Clearly you don't know what you are talking about," said Hermione. She idly examined her nails, appearing as though she was utterly bored with the whole situation. "Both of my friends are eager to meet my fiancé who is from the same House as you so any fool could figure out that neither of them is prejudiced against Slytherins." She shrugged her shoulders as she prepared her next words. "But I suppose it takes a_ real_ man to own up to his faults and flaws so we can't possibly expect that from you."

Now Flint's stare was solely directed at Hermione and the look on his face suggested that he wanted to slaughter her here and now. "Who the fuck said I was talking about either of them? I don't know what sort of plans you have for—"

"Flint?" Malfoy said as he approached their table. Confusion was written all over his face as he took in the situation. "What are you doing here?"

"I was supposed to meet a business associate of mine here but he had to cancel at the last minute," said Flint. "I saw your lovely fiancée here so I thought I would stop by to say hello."

"And he was just leaving," added Hermione. She lifted her chin and met the force of his returning glare head on. She was not about to let herself get intimidated by a wizard who was so stupid that he was held back a year at Hogwarts.

"Actually I was going to ask Malfoy if he would like me to stay. Balance out the table between our Houses and all that."

"No thank you," said Malfoy with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I can take care of myself."

"That's what you think," muttered Flint.

Hermione was gratified to see Malfoy narrowing his eyes at his fellow Slytherin. "If you're done with your petty insults, then I would suggest you leave," he said. "We have no use for you here."

The two Slytherins glowered at each other for a long minute before Flint backed down and left. Hermione knew that some sort of message passed between the two of them during that minute, but she didn't know what it was. Briefly she wondered if Malfoy had arranged for this impromptu meeting with Flint in order to bolster his own status in the Wizarding World. But as Draco took his seat and gracefully responded to her friends' inquiries, Hermione pushed that thought out of her mind. It was of no consequence if he did especially as anything that helped to improve his reputation was good for her as well. Her attempt at setting Neville and Katie up was set back more than a little but she was willing to continue working on that front for her two friends truly deserved one another.

* * *

The young wizard knocked at the Oaks' door, using the pattern he had told them about before. There was no way they would be able to recognize him as he was under a Disillusionment charm so that particular knock would let them know that it was he. Only once he was inside their house would he drop the spell responsible for shielding his identity to any who might be watching. Given the contents of their last e-mail to him, he knew there was a good chance that someone was keeping an eye on the Oaks' home.

Dennis Creevey wanted to take no chances when it came to keeping the Oaks safe. They were the first family to come to him for help after he had started his project. It had been tough to keep going; there had been no results for the first year, and money was perpetually an issue for him. He wasn't about to throw in the towel however. That would have been a disservice to his brother's memory, which was already pretty much forgotten in the world Colin had fought so hard to protect.

The door was opened by Sydney Oaks, a stocky man in his mid-forties. "Yes?" he asked expectantly, waiting for the code phrase Dennis had sent via e-mail. It had been his idea to have a two step method to verify Dennis' identity, first by a measured knock and then by a code phrase that would change every time Dennis stopped by.

"Are you interested in the latest in home security innovations?" Dennis asked. Sydney nodded and let him in.

* * *

**Author's note:** Thanks so much for reading so far. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and will leave a review to let me know what you think.

I would also like to thank misssweetsweet, celticscorpion, iluv2dance, kazfeist, dynonugget, medusaasaphoenix, allycat1186, bananna15, mhaj78, shat, RememberMe2, and Shandi Luaine for their reviews. Thanks ever so much.


	8. Castles

**Ambition's End: Castles**

**Disclaimer: **These characters still are not mine.

* * *

It was fairly obvious that the Muggles thought he was an idiot.

Draco could tell that straight away by the reaction of Hermione's father when he greeted him at the front door. Seeing how this was the first time he was to be introduced to his fiancée's parents, he decided to dress for the occasion and was in his finest dress robes. He wasn't the type to go gadding about in those peculiar fashions Muggles were so fond of. If he was going any place that Muggles might see him, a simply chameleon charm would help him to blend in. He didn't need to resort to trying to figure out what Muggles would consider normal to wear for the situation.

When Mr. Granger opened the door, he had given Draco a look of disdain. He then proceeded to lead Draco into the dining room after letting him into the house. The trip to the dining room was an ordeal on its own. His host practically walked backwards, worried that Draco would break something along the way. Draco did his best to ignore the strange behavior. He reasoned that Granger's father acted that way was because his exposure to wizards was limited mainly to the Weasleys, which explained a lot really.

Granger and her mother were both already in the dining room, where they were putting the final touches on getting everything ready. Granger was busy lighting candles while her mother was bringing in the last dish from the kitchen. They had both paused in their tasks upon his entrance. As soon as he and Granger greeted one another, Granger's parents started to stare at their daughter and him expectantly. He couldn't figure out what was wrong with them until Granger turned a bright red and primly told her parents that she wasn't going to snog her fiancé in front of them simply because they were curious about the nature of the relationship between him and her.

There weren't many things that he and Granger saw eye to eye on, but that was definitely one of them.

Granger had a bit of a coughing fit after that but recovered soon enough to properly introduce Draco to her parents. "Mum, Dad, this is Draco Malfoy, my fiancé," she said. "Draco, this is my father Edward Granger, and my mother—"

"Wait a second. Let me guess. Helen Granger, am I right? You're as lovely as your namesake." Draco shot a pleasant smile at Granger's mother, confident in his ability to charm her over to his side. He would need all the help he could get, given the chilly reception he had from Granger's father. He had anticipated that however seeing how most doting fathers had a tendency to look down upon anyone their daughters brought home. Draco had planned to get Hermione' mother on his side as soon as possible, and so he took a chance and made an educated guess on her name. He didn't think it was that much of a risk; Granger's parents seemed to be the sort that were well-read and all that.

"It's Emma, actually," she replied coldly.

Draco winced. He had stepped in it, being over-confident in the educated guess he had made. "My mistake. I'm sorry," he said.

Meanwhile Granger was frowning at him. "I don't recall ever telling you that my mum's name was Helen. Whatever made you think that?" she asked. "Did Harry or Ron somehow trick you into thinking that?"

"No," said Draco quickly. He didn't want either of her friends to be mentioned at this dinner. Back when they were students, it had been expected that Granger would wind up with one of her friends. He didn't know if her parents had hoped for such a relationship, but he didn't want to provide an opening for them. "It's just that your name is Hermione, after the daughter of Helen of Troy, that's why I thought that. Stupid of me to assume, really."

"She's not named after some Greek myth," sniffed Granger's mother. "The reference is far more recent than that. Think Shakespeare."

"Shakespeare?" repeated Draco confusedly. He wondered what the silly Muggles were on about. "I'm sorry. Never heard of it," he said. Granger's parents exchanged looks of shock and horror.

"Do you mean to say you've never read any of Shakespeare's plays?" asked her father.

"No I have not. That subject wasn't covered at Hogwarts," said Draco smoothly.

"But certainly your parents must have introduced you to him," said her mother. "Hermione! I thought you said that—"

"He's a pure-blood," Granger explained calmly. "He wouldn't know Shakespeare because he was Muggle, like us. That's why."

"Again I have to wonder at the choices you make," said Mrs. Granger coldly. "But then what's the point? It's not as though you ever listen to me once you've made up your mind. Shall we sit down for dinner then?"

"He's not a complete savage, is he?" Granger's father said to her in a stage whisper. "I won't have to instruct him on how to use his fork and knife, will I?"

"No Dad, you won't," said Granger wearily. "He was raised in a different culture, not on a different planet."

"Might as well have been," sniffed her father. Draco was grateful that her father didn't voice any more complaints as they all sat down. They spent several minutes after that, each filling their plates while Hermione chattered nervously about the weather. He found himself impressed that Mrs. Granger was able to prepare so much without the use of magic. However he kept that observation to himself. Something told him that his current company wouldn't take that as a compliment, even though he would have meant it as such.

"So Draco," said Mrs. Granger, "Hermione never did say what you do for a living."

"That's probably because he does nothing all day and is content to live off of his parents' fortune," her husband grumbled.

"Hush dear," she told him softly.

"I have been in charge of running the family company ever since my father stepped down," answered Draco.

Hermione's father coughed and said, "Which translates to you doing noth—oof!" He winced suddenly in pain. Draco took note of the aggravated expression on his fiancee's face. He supposed there was one good thing about this table being so damn small. It allowed Granger to kick her father in order to shut him up when he was feeling obnoxious.

"That's good for you," said Mrs. Granger. "Although I have to wonder…what use would you be to society without your money or your magic?"

"Plenty I am sure," answered Hermione. "Draco's very clever. His marks were some of the best in our year."

"Not the best," her dad mumbled. Before he could continue in that vein, Granger shot a threatening look at him. Her father got the hint and shut up. In the meantime, Draco silently fumed. He should have known that Granger had to get her sharp tongue from somewhere and have figured out a way to get out of meeting her parents, after he had promised that he would in the Ministry. Obviously they were the reason why she was sorted into Gryffindor rather than Ravenclaw. They were both savages, the way they criticized every little thing about him with no attempt at subtlety at all. That was such typical Gryffindor behavior. Draco had been attempting to play nice as Granger had met with his parents already. He wasn't going to make that same mistake again. He didn't bother replying to any of the shots lobbed his way by the Grangers for that would only prolong the agony instead allowing Hermione to defend him which she did with much vigor. Draco felt that was the least she could do considering how she had tricked him into this situation. The Grangers soon stopped after they realized that the only person responding to their attacks on him was their daughter, opting to team up on her as an alternative. That would have been amusing if it weren't for the way they were going about it.

"Hermione, you remember Robert, right? You used to play with him when you were little," said Mrs. Granger.

Granger suddenly resembled like a mouse that had suddenly come upon a cat who felt like playing. "I hardly consider it playing when all he did was chase us girls around. I can't remember when was the last time I actually thought of him," she said.

"He chased you especially though, didn't he? Don't you know that boys always tease the girls they like? Isn't that right, Ed?" That comment by Granger's mum was completely tactless.

"Yes dear," replied Mr. Granger. "He's a nice boy, Hermione, who holds down a_respectable_ job. That was how we ran into him again. The other day he was fixing our network here at the office for our computers." Draco had no idea what the Muggles were talking about, and for once, Granger didn't look like she knew much more than him.

"That's nice Dad. I can't say much else as I haven't had much time to keep up with technology," she said.

"Funny you should mention that. I was telling Robert how you don't even have a computer seeing how you're so out of touch with all that. He offered to help you buy one and even set it up at your flat. I really think you should take him up on that offer," Mrs. Granger said firmly.

"Maybe one day Mum. I'm afraid I don't have time to learn about all that," Hermione protested. She took a drink from the glass in front of her.

"If you keep putting it off, you'll never get around to doing it," said her father after he finished his current mouthful. Thankfully the Grangers had much better table manners than any of the Weasleys, although Draco couldn't say the same about their conversational skills.

"Yes, I completely agree with your father, dear. You have said for years that you plan to spend a bit of time catching up to everything that's changed in the real world. The longer you wait, the farther you'll fall behind. Don't you think it's about time you do so?" asked her mum.

"It would be a great help to us. I'm positive you will catch on quickly. You were always a fast learner," her father added. "I would love to have your help in designing a website for our family. I have books and books about how to go about doing that, but it would be nice to make it a father-daughter project."

"I'll think about it, Dad," Granger replied noncommittally.

"Don't think about it. Just smile and do it, especially since Robert has offered to help you out. He's a really nice boy, Hermione, and it would be so good for the two of you to reconnect. I think that he could help ground you, really," her mother insisted.

Granger rolled her eyes at the ceiling, and Draco joined her in doing so. His mother had sometimes been pushy about him finding a suitable bride, but never to this extent. He had never considered whether Granger's parents supported her choice to settle down in the Wizarding World. He had simply assumed that they had done so otherwise they would not have let her attend Hogwarts. Yet given the way they were acting at the dinner table, it would appear that they must have had a change of heart over the years and would love nothing better than for their daughter to give up her magic forever.

That was an absurd notion. Once Draco would have whole-heartedly supported it, thinking that Granger wasn't worthy of being a witch. Her abilities along with her actions had proved him wrong. During the war she had managed to avoid detection by some of his father's most skilled compatriots while helping Potter to his victory. That showed that she was a more powerful and clever witch than most. He still didn't think much of her ideas as she had no respect for many Wizarding customs and traditions, but he was willing to accept that she did belong to the Wizarding World. It was oddly ironic that evidently her parents didn't agree with that conclusion although they must have agreed at one point in time.

Sighing Draco poked at his plate. He hoped that this dinner would end soon. He also hoped given the tension between Granger and her parents that Granger wouldn't be inviting him to meet them ever again. This couldn't be comfortable for her either so he hoped she would aid rather than hinder his efforts to avoid meeting her parents ever again.

* * *

It simply wasn't long enough. Having only five minutes for a nice, hot shower had to be one of the worst things in the world, particularly when the stress Hermione was under was beginning to show itself in the constant way her shoulders were tense. She sighed however and dragged herself out of the shower once her allotted time was up. She had no choice really, not if she wanted to be on time to meet with Malfoy and his parents. While she personally preferred not to take one if she didn't have time for a long shower, the charms she used in her hair required that it be wet.

Hermione swore mentally as she rushed about to get ready. There were times when Hermione believed that the entire world was conspiring to make her as frustrated as possible. It seemed a lifetime ago when she was celebrating how all her plans were finally coming together. She hadn't considered back then that all of them converging at the same time would also create a lot of work for her. Between her family and her job—not to mention her work in planning her upcoming wedding or her attempts at foiling the current pure-blood plot against Muggle-borns—she was stretched to the limit.

She slipped into the light summer dress robes she had chosen for the occasion, done in white and pale yellow, and started casting the charms necessary to control her hair. Casting them had pretty much become second-nature to her by now so her mind was free to wander and think about how badly her parents had reacted to their meeting with Malfoy. That had been an unmitigated disaster and horribly embarrassing to boot. Ever since she introduced Malfoy to her parents, they had constantly harped about how they didn't like the boy. Hermione had complained about him through most of her school years, and they had been quick to bring that up. She had countered by saying that everyone deserved a second chance and that Malfoy had been changed by his experiences during the war. That answer impressed neither her mum nor her dad. Her dad had snorted and made a remark how the brat must have been an absolute terror before if Hermione thought that he had changed. Her mum, on the other hand, had decided to go back to their old argument that the Wizarding World was too dangerous and that Hermione would be better off living the rest of her life as a Muggle.

When she had first started attending Hogwarts, her parents had been very proud of her although they couldn't always understand what exactly her accomplishments were. Becoming a prefect had been great—that had been something they could comprehend. O.W.L.s were much the same after she told them that they were basically O levels for wizards. Yet despite her best efforts there had been a growing chasm between her and her parents. She hadn't really noticed it until after her fourth year. Somehow her mum and dad knew that she wasn't telling them everything about what happened at school. Her mum had begun to ask her if she would like to go back to attending a regular school, a suggestion that Hermione vigorously opposed. Her mother and father's opposition to her staying in the Wizarding World had been cemented after she had retrieved them from Australia after the war. They had both been livid that she had kept so much from them. They both immediately demanded that she snap her wand and come back to what they called the real world. That argument still shook her. Hermione had feared that she was going to lose her parents all over again because she refused to do as they asked. Thus when her mum started to bring it up again, Hermione quickly reacted to change the subject. She agreed to their request that she meet with her old childhood friend, Robert, to buy a computer so she could catch up to Muggle technology. Both her mum and her dad had been pleased by that concession; clearly they saw it as an opening to bring her back to their world for good.

Unfortunately they never told her that they were planning to be in attendance. If they had, Hermione would have some found way to get out of it somehow. All of them had gone on a whirlwind shopping tour of various electronic shops. Her mind boggled as she recalled how he and her dad debated the merits of all the different components there were to choose from. There were times when she swore they weren't speaking English. Her parents were right; she had a lot of catching up to do in this realm.

Of course it had been when Hermione was thinking that that her mum had caught her eye and given her a look that clearly said 'I told you so.'

In the end she wound up telling Robert to get the best configuration available. He had done a double take then before candidly telling her that would be rather pricey. Hermione had told him that she wasn't concerned about the money—which she wasn't because the galleons-to-pounds exchange rate worked in her favor these days—and he had went wild after that. While her old friend's eyes had filled with glee, making him look younger than he really was, her parents had been very disapproving about the cavalier approach she had taken to spending so much money. However, on the bright side, it didn't take long for him to select a computer for Hermione after that, and then they had headed back to her flat with her new toy. She had cleared out a space in her living room for it to be set up. That had taken far too long, with her friend and her dad busy for what seemed like hours installing different software that they insisted Hermione would need. She had idly watched them while flipping through some of the manuals that came with the software and listening to her mum go on and on about virtues of this new technology. By the time that everything was finally set up, Hermione had virtually no time to prep herself before this night's meeting with the Malfoys.

She pushed her concerns about her relationship with her parents to the side as she finally finished all the charms for her hair. Hermione fumbled about in her jewelry box, looking for her pearl earrings. She rolled her eyes as she remembered her last meeting with Narcissa Malfoy, just the other day. She had been at Flourish and Blotts looking for a book she had long been thinking of purchasing when she had ran into the older witch. The blonde cow had shot veiled insult after veiled insult at Hermione, taking issue with just about everything that had to do with the younger witch. One of the topics she had lingered over was Hermione's lack of style when it came to apparel. Hermione was determined not to give Narcissa any ammunition in that department tonight. She would be dressed simply and elegantly, although her inner cynic warned that the other witch would still be able to find something to criticize.

Of course Hermione had to admit that Narcissa had plenty to criticize when they met the other day. As of late her appearance had been frumpier than usual. However given the problems that had arisen at her job, she hadn't bothered to put much time into looking good when she went out. It was old news that the head of Hermione's department, an old codger by the name of Balthazar Merlose, didn't like her very much. Finding a replacement for Merlose had been second on her list of people to find to fill important positions—first had been finding someone who would be a good steward for Hogwarts to follow in Minerva's footsteps. Old Man Bal's latest set of machinations was enough to bump his successor up to number one on that list. Minerva would be able to lead Hogwarts for a few more years. Hermione's need for a new department head was more immediate. The idiot was trying to get her funding pulled on the basis that she hadn't any results yet. That was simply preposterous. Hermione had been so livid that she was ready to curse him into oblivion. She had only been working on her project of developing the science of magical forensics for a little over a year. The damn department had wasted centuries on propping up oracles that were practically useless. It didn't help her temper any to think that she had sort of provoked this latest attack by her boss; she had all but threatened to see him retired shortly when they had met at the last department dinner. She had firmly squashed that insipid attempt to purge her from the department, but it had taken up time she didn't have to spare. It was because she had to put up with Balthazar's nonsense that she still hadn't found the time to meet with the candidate that Harry had selected for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. She was certain that Harry's choice was a good one, but she still wanted to meet the man before introducing him to Minerva. She would have to do that this week; the start of the school year was fast approaching.

Thankfully Minerva had not pressed Hermione about the other task she had entrusted the younger witch with. Hermione had absolutely no luck when it came to finding out whom amongst the pure-bloods and their sympathizers had been in contact with the Oaks. The wards that she and the boys had set up were activated several times when someone must have visited the Muggles. No harmful spells had been cast, but whoever was there had cast additional protection charms. Unfortunately there was no way to trace those spells back to their caster. That fueled Hermione on at work when she diligently worked on a way to track spells and their casters. If her research hadn't been so experimental, she would have tested it at the Muggles' residence. As it was her research was so experimental that she wasn't going to risk using it in the real world until she ran many more simulations.

Hermione sighed. There wasn't much she could do right now about any of that. Right now the important thing was to ensure that she looked her best for what was certain to be a night full of verbal duels with the Malfoys. She performed one final check in the mirror to make sure that everything was in place before dashing out her bedroom door to collect her handbag. She found it on the sofa where she had left it after her shopping excursion earlier today. She stood up and took several deep breaths. Her heart was racing, thinking of _everything_ she had to do, and she simply had to calm down. It was imperative that when she met the Malfoys this evening she was as cool and collected as possible. For tonight she was supposed to be sharing with them more details about the wedding as well as receiving a list from Narcissa about all the people she planned to invite. Once she felt sufficiently composed she reached for the portkey on her bookshelf and was transported immediately to Malfoy Manor.

Hermione closed her eyes as she tried to recover from that disorienting feeling that always accompanied the use of a portkey. She much preferred to Apparate but naturally the Malfoys still hadn't allowed her that privilege. It took her several seconds to get over that feeling but once she did, she opened her eyes. To her surprise the only person waiting to greet her was Narcissa Malfoy. The blonde witch lifted one eyebrow gracefully and then sniffed in disdain.

"Still not accustomed to travel using Wizarding methods?" she asked languidly. "Don't worry my dear. You'll get used to it one of these days, I am certain."

It took great restraint on Hermione's part not to hex her future hag-in-law. She completely understood what the older witch was saying; Hermione wasn't ever going to be allowed the right of Apparating to Malfoy Manor if she had anything to say about the matter. It didn't help Hermione's temper that the blonde was looked as impeccable as ever. She comforted herself with the thought that Narcissa had the entire day to prepare herself for this meeting. Hermione had better things to spend her time on.

"So nice to see you again too Narcissa," Hermione said with a smile. She was rewarded with a glower from the older witch.

"I don't recall ever giving you permission to use my name," the blonde said icily. "It is such a pity. In my day, young people were taught how to properly respect their elders. Obviously today's standards of education leave much to be desired."

"I wasn't aware that I needed permission. Andromeda—your older sister, you do remember her, right?—never said anything of the like to me. She is so warm and charming, don't you think?" That was a gamble on Hermione's part. She knew that it was more than likely that Narcissa would pretend that her only older sister was dead. However the older witch surprised her by ignoring the subject completely.

"In any case I am afraid that Lucius and Draco are caught up in a game of chess." She wrinkled her nose prettily. "I will never understand what the two them see in that incomprehensible game."

"It must be a wizard thing," Hermione said with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Yes I suppose that is true. Before I left them to greet you, Draco suggested I take you to our library. He said something about the library being your preferred hiding spot in school," Narcissa stated.

Hermione's first impulse was to reply that she had never been hiding, but she soon thought of a better response. "How charming!" she said, clasping her hands together in mock-excitement. "To think that he couldn't keep his eyes off of me even back then." By the way Narcissa ground her teeth together, Hermione could tell that she was beginning to wear on the blonde witch's nerves.

"Believe that if it gives you comfort," she said tightly. "Shall we go, my dear? We should take advantage of this opportunity to discuss how the wedding plans are going while we won't bore the wizards." Hermione nodded her agreement, and the two witches took off. Neither spoke as Narcissa led the way to the library. Hermione was busy wondering to herself if the Malfoy library would be as grand as she heard it was. From Draco's boasts back at Hogwarts, his family's library rivaled that of the school but she knew better than to childish bragging for an accurate description. She was willing to bet that its section on the Dark Arts had been much larger than what was housed at Hogwarts but she also knew it had been depleted since the war. From what she had heard from her friends, Malfoy Manor had been subjected to a whole series of searches for dark artifacts while the Wizengamot had debated what to do with the family itself. In the end, the Malfoys had got their home and their freedom back but not before it was declared clear of dark magic by the Aurors. Hermione snorted at that thought; it would take more than a few raids by Aurors to rid this place of its taint. It lingered still despite Narcissa's best efforts at redecorating.

"Here we are," the blonde witch announced as they walked inside. Hermione couldn't contain a gasp of awe. While noticeably smaller than the Hogwarts library, it was much better lit. There was less space for shelving and so instead the bookcases went up. A cursory glance at the titles told Hermione that Draco had every right to be proud of his library as a child. There were far less books than there were at Hogwarts but the Malfoy library had the edge when it came to hard-to-find volumes. Her initial curiosity satisfied, Hermione turned her attention back to her hostess. She knew that she had been led here so that the books could act as a distraction for her. Unfortunately for whatever scheme Narcissa had cooked up, while Hermione loved books she was able to ignore them when necessary. She wasn't going to agree to any ludicrous suggestions just because her fingers were itching to open any of the rare books present.

"I believe that you had mentioned that you had your guest list prepared," Hermione said.

"Yes, of course, my dear. I know you must be anxious to start sending out wedding invitations." The blonde laughed as she walked over to one of the desks. "I will be very relieved once they are all sent out myself. More than a few of my acquaintances have asked when they would receive one." She pulled out a scroll tied with a green ribbon from one of the desk's compartments. "Here you are, my dear. I am sorry that I was unable to get it to you sooner. It was so hard, whittling my list down to such a great extent."

Hermione took the scroll that was offered to her. She untied the ribbon so she could take a look at the list she was given. She immediately frowned at its length. "Are you certain this is your final draft?" she asked. "I do remember saying that the wedding would only have room for about two hundred guests."

"That is my final draft. Don't worry. You can count them all up if you like, but I assure you that there are exactly two hundred names there."

"Exactly. That would leave no room for my guests," Hermione pointed out astringently.

"Is that so?" Narcissa cocked an eyebrow at the younger witch. "Oh dear. I am afraid that I must have misunderstood you. When you said two hundred, I thought you meant for my side."

Hermione sighed. Of course the other witch took her words the wrong way. She should have been more careful and made it explicit that Narcissa could only invite one hundred people. Honestly! It wasn't any wonder why it had taken her so long because she was busy trying to fill up all two hundred slots.

"I guess we will just have to work on cutting this list in half," she said.

"Oh, I can't do that." Narcissa shook her head. Hermione knew the other witch was now playing dumb in order to get back at her for earlier. "That's simply not possible, my dear. It was already so difficult to get my guest list this small as it is, and I know I am in store for howler after howler from friends who won't get getting an invite. Trust me when I say that I could not possibly choose who to take off. They are all such dear, close friends of mine."

"All two hundred of them?" said Hermione, raising an eyebrow. She continued before the other witch could answer. "In that case it would be easier just to rip it in two. Which half do you want to invite? The top half or the bottom half?"

"Now you are just being silly," Narcissa said accusingly. "I have already said that everyone there simply must be invited. Have you chosen the location yet? If it is not large enough, you can always stage the wedding here at the manor."

"Yes, of course, I've already settled on the venue," said Hermione. "It's at Solaris—"

"Of course," Narcissa interrupted her. "It's rather trendy, isn't it? It is so like a young witch to mindlessly follow the fashion of the day."

Hermione leveled her glare at the other witch. In truth she had chosen to have the wedding at Solaris because there wasn't any other location that met all her needs. It was the only Wizarding resort in all of Britain that could accommodate both the size of the wedding as well as its Muggle guests, and so Hermione had immediately decided upon it. The amount of money it had cost to reserve the place, especially at what was relatively short notice, had been ghastly but at least she wasn't the one paying for it. She wasn't about to go back to them and ask to increase the size of the event. She didn't have the time to do so, and she didn't really want to do that anyway if it was going to make Narcissa happy.

"Yes I do believe it will become more fashionable to invite Muggles to wedding, especially when they're related to either the bride or groom," said Hermione. She felt vindicated when she saw the look of horror that briefly settled across Narcissa's face. "And you see, because I am inviting all my Muggle relatives, we can't have the wedding here. You don't have the facilities to house them, nor do you have staff trained in the concealment charms that will have to be used at the ceremony."

Suddenly a look of dismay crossed the other witch's face. "Don't tell me we will have to dress up in those gaudy Muggle rags that they call clothing," she gasped out.

Hermione was tempted to say yes but she didn't want to press her luck. That would probably come back to bite her in the arse. "No of course not," said Hermione. "That would be a strange sight. You pure-bloods really have no idea how Muggles actually dress. That's one of the things the concealment charms are needed for." She shuddered as she recalled some examples of wizards trying to disguise themselves as Muggles.

Narcissa heaved an audible sigh of relief. "Good. However I still do not see the problem with simply expanding the event. It should be that hard as there still is a couple months before the wedding." She stopped and tapped her chin with her index finger. "Oh dear. I am sorry. I fear I might have been very inconsiderate of you. Is the real reason you're opposed to making the wedding bigger because you don't have enough time to work on it?"

"No I don't," Hermione said shortly. That was a very obvious statement to make. She didn't know where the other witch was going, but instinct told her she was not going to like it.

"If that's the case, don't you think it would be better to get some help, my dear?"

"I will be fine. I wouldn't want to impose on anyone," said Hermione, smiling as she lied. She knew that Narcissa would love for her to turn over all the wedding planning to the older witch. Hermione wasn't foolish enough to trust the older witch though. Narcissa Malfoy was a snake and was not to be trusted with anything. Unfortunately there was no one else she could really turn to for help with planning the event. Molly Weasley was a wonderful hostess but she accustomed to holding only brunches and picnics for her family. Hermione's mum wanted no part in helping her daughter arrange the wedding, saying that it would be better for Hermione to go back on her word even if—maybe especially if—that meant giving up her magic and her wand.

"It would be no imposition, my dear," said Narcissa.

"No," said Hermione again, her smile fading. "Besides I know you're busy yourself, renovating this old place." She waved her hand around.

"Oh! I am afraid that you mistook my meaning yet again. It does seem that we have great difficulty when it comes to communicating. How frustating!" She made a small moue of annoyance. "I wasn't referring to myself. I am horribly busy, more so than you can possibly imagine. I was speaking of getting wedding planner. If you like I could introduce you to Maria Riot or Elhaym Losstarot. I've known them both for ages, and I am certain that either of them would be a great help to you."

Hermione inclined her head. "I'll think about it," she said noncommittally.

"You should do more than just think about it. Oh! I do hate to be a nag and press the issue, but if you wait too much longer, getting a wedding planner won't do you much good. She will need time as well to ensure everything is perfect for the big day."

"I know," Hermione said shortly. She wondered if the older witch really thought she was that foolish. She knew better than to trust anyone who came with Narcissa's recommendations. Those witches would probably be all too willing to collude with Narcissa to prevent her family from making it to the wedding.

"Very well, my dear. So long as you understand that you are under time constraints," said the other witch. Hermione was nearing the end of her patience. She knew that she was under time constraints. That was the whole reason why she wanted the blonde cow to cut her guest list in half in the first place.

"Putting that aside for now," said Hermione, "you still haven't answered my question."

"Your question?" Narcissa looked at her as though bewildered.

"Which half of your guests do you want to keep? The top half or the bottom half?" Hermione mimed slicing the scroll in half.

"That's exactly why you need a wedding planner," said the older witch.

"Let me assure you of one thing. Even if I do decide to get one, I have absolutely no intentions of expanding the wedding even further."

"Why not? Just so you can be difficult? Come now, my dear, and be reasonable. Haven't you always dreamed of having a large wedding?"

"No. Actually my dream wedding has always been small, with only my closest family and friends in attendance."

Narcissa's expression shifted into one of censure. "That's awfully common," she complained.

"What is?" asked Lucius as he entered the library, interrupting the two witches in their argument.

"We were just disagreeing about some details in regards to the wedding, darling," Narcissa explained to her husband. Hermione was starting to wonder if she should just throw in the towel. Nothing was going her way today, and she didn't really feel up to arguing the point with all three Malfoys. However Hermione got her first lucky break of the day then and there. Lucius Malfoy looked panicked after his wife's explanations and he swallowed nervously several times before he spoke again.

"Well if you're talking about the wedding, then I think it is best left up the two of you. You really don't need us for any of that. Draco and I came down here since we finished with our game. Shall we head on down to the dining room?" He offered his arm to his wife, and the two of them started walking out of the library and down the corridor, leaving Hermione to trail behind with only Draco as company.

"I do hope you haven't been worrying my mother needlessly," he said to her as they walked together.

She snorted. "Hardly. I simply told her she had to shorten her guest list. Did you know she wanted to invite two hundred people?"

"That hardly surprises me. Usually she invites around five hundred or more to one of her events, darling."

Hermione looked askance at Malfoy. "Darling?" she repeated.

"Oh yes. Awfully bad habit of mine. My manners tend to improve when my parents are in earshot." Draco's eyes took on a far-off look, as though he was lost in his memories, and Hermione was struck at how handsome he was. She had seen enough of him in action to know that he could be charming when he wanted to. Sometimes she wondered how he would have turned out if he had been raised by decent people instead of by the arrogant, prejudiced pure-bloods who were his parents. She rather thought that they might very well have been friends if not for his heritage. It was then that he opened his mouth again and spoiled the whole effect.

"If I slip up again, do be a dear and imagine that I used one of my usual insults on you. Your choice. In any case I fail to see what the issue is here. It shouldn't be harder to plan for three hundred as opposed to two hundred."

Hermione stayed silent for a few moments as she carefully considered her response. She had to approach this situation with kid gloves because Draco still believed he had the upper hand in their relationship. "Trust me, it is harder. Particularly because there isn't much time to accommodate for such a big change in numbers."

"And here I thought that was what magic is for. With one wave of the wand you can have a bigger room."

"Obviously you haven't had to plan any events before. It takes much more than that."

"I see. Well then, hasn't my mother suggested you ask a wedding planner for help? Since it seems your biggest issue is lack of time."

"She has mentioned that. However finding one to suit our needs would take up even more time," she replied reasonably.

"Don't worry about that. I am certain my mother knows at least one who is used to planning large events who will make room in her schedule for us," said Draco.

"Really?" asked Hermione. She decided to go on the offensive seeing as her arguments weren't persuading him. "Because I was under the impression that your parents and their associates don't really know that many Muggles or how to interact with them. If that's the case, would your parents like to come and meet mine? That invitation still stands, you know." She hoped that would do the trick. He couldn't have enjoyed meeting her parents that last time, and she didn't think that he would want to deal with trying to keep their sets of parents from killing one another. For that matter Hermione didn't want to deal with that sort of situation so she really hoped he didn't take her up on that offer.

He looked down at her through veiled eyes. "Don't be ridiculous," he told her. "I won't subject my parents to that."

"That's precisely my feeling as well." Hermione took a deep breath. "Look. I understand that you want to keep your mother happy. I can appreciate that. I feel the same way about mine. I will seriously consider asking for help in planning the wedding, but that help has to be willing to work with Muggles. If you or your mother knows anyone who fits that qualification, I am willing to owl that person immediately." That was when Hermione received her second bit of luck for the day. Those words were enough to make Draco back down.

"Very well," he said. "I see your point. In the meantime, I will ask Mother to sort her list into people we must invite and people we should invite. In return I expect you to seriously look into getting some sort of help in planning our wedding. You obviously need it."

Though Hermione would normally respond to such a thinly veiled insult, she decided to leave things as they were. She knew that she wouldn't be able to take control of their relationship for some time to come. She was not about to press her luck, not when getting someone else to help her plan the wedding really would be a good thing for her as well. If she could, then she would have so much more time to devote to everything else she had on her plate.

* * *

**Author's note:** Thanks so much for reading so far. Sorry that this update took so long. I fell behind writing my Valentine's fic because I got sick, and then when I looked at editing this chapter, I saw that I had to more or less rewrite the whole thing. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it and I would very much appreciate it if you could review to let me know what you thought.

Finally I would like to thank mhaj78, dynonugget, Midnight Little One, medusaasaphoenix, misssweetsweet, allycat1186, iluv2dance, RememberMe2, ReineMauvaise, gem.babe, Jaid Ziaen, sugar n spice 522, shat, Select Another, and KRL2008 for reviewing the last chapter. Thanks so much. :) Reviews always make my day.


	9. Spinning the Wheel

**Ambition's End: Spinning the Wheel**

**Disclaimer:** None of these characters are mine as they all belong to JKR.

* * *

"I should have known to look here first instead of heading to your office," Pansy stated haughtily as she marched into the library at Malfoy Manor. "I swear you will never change, Draco. You like skiving off just for the sake of skiving off. Either that or you're deathly allergic to work. That wouldn't surprise me either."

"Good morning to you too, Pansy," he replied evenly as he looked up from his desk. "I haven't seen you in a while. You look well enough. By the by, I'm not slacking off. I'm hard at work."

"At home? Please. Do you take me for a fool?"

"Yes, at home. That's the one nice thing about being in charge. If I decide to work here instead of at the office, there's no one to tell me no."

"Not that it matters if there was someone telling you no. You're not the sort to listen to someone else when it would inconvenience you." She crossed the room and took a seat on a settee near his desk.

Draco sighed. He put down the documents he had been looking at. "Do you think so little of me, Pansy?"

"I think the world of you, Draco. That doesn't mean that I'm blind to your faults. Let's add stubborn to that list. Trying to pout prettily isn't going to make me change my mind," she said.

"I wasn't trying to pout," he grumbled. He caught her eye, and the two of them laughed. It had been too long since he had last seen her. Draco knew perfectly well that the gossips had the two of them linked romantically during their Hogwarts years. They did prefer each other's company when they were students because they had been friends all their lives. Somehow during school though a witch couldn't be close friends with a wizard without someone starting a rumor that they were more than friends. Look at Granger; there were times when she was rumored to be involved with Potter, then with Weasley, and then for a very short period with both of them. That last rumor had ended when Granger had spectacularly set a curse upon the Ravenclaw who had started it. Draco had been impressed back then, thinking perhaps that Gryffindor witch did have a modicum of common sense despite all evidence to the contrary.

"It is good to see you again," said Pansy.

"But you must have another reason aside from wanting to catch up to be here," Draco noted. "Or have your parents decided that it is once again a benefit to be associated with the Malfoy name, rather than a liability?"

Pansy gave a twitch of her lips, indicating how little she thought of her parents' decision. "You know I never agreed with them when it came to breaking ties to you and your family after the war. Yes the reputation of your family was definitely unsavory, and I understand that you were being shunned by all the pure-bloods who hadn't back the Dark Lord and a good number of those that did. That didn't erase the fact that your entire family managed to escape any and all punishment because the Wizengamot found that you all had been coerced. I thought that eventually you would be able to spin that in your favor and convince people to associate with you once more."

He inclined his head towards her. "Thank you. Did you ever envision that I would improve my family's reputation by proposing to Granger?"

Her nostrils widened at his words. "Not. Ever," Pansy said decisively. "Part of me can't fathom why you would ask that cow. You do know that she was with Weasley for a short period of time. Do you want your children to inherit such bad taste?"

Draco winced. That was an awful thought. "No, I don't want my children to associate too closely with any Weasley. I would point out that Granger had the good taste to not linger in that particular relationship."

"She is still friends with both him and Potter."

"Oh I know. That's part of the attraction. I don't like either Potter or Weasley. I don't think I ever will. Out of all the Gryffindors in our year, however, Granger was the most acceptable of the bunch. I even think that we might have been friendly with her if it wasn't for her blood status and her choice in friends. She was clever enough during school that you would want to pick her brains, particularly in those situations where you couldn't trust a Slytherin witch."

"Draco, you can never trust a Slytherin witch. Some would go so far to say that you can never trust a witch, but I don't. I think there are some witches out there that are soppy enough to be trusted. Still I see your point. If you put aside her blood status and her insane need to let everyone one of us know that she knows more than us…then yes I think I would rather have liked her during school. She is rather clever, and in a way, it's too bad that she isn't cunning. Imagine what a force she could be." She straightened her back. "But I didn't come here to talk about your fiancée. I suppose it was an inspired choice…given how badly your family's name was looked down on, it would take rather drastic measures to improve your situation. I remain surprised that you actually went through with it all, instead of biding your time and letting people's memories lapse and…"

"That thought did occur to me, but I soon discarded it. I don't like waiting if I don't have to. And if I had to marry a Muggle-born or half-blood"—a smirk appeared on Draco's face—"then I would marry the one that would bring me the most influence. Which is Granger."

"When you put it like that, it makes more sense given what I know of your character. Which leads me nicely into what did bring me here," she stated. She took a deep breath and looked at her hands. Then she looked up at Draco before she continued.

"A mutual friend of ours told me that he had a discussion with you a couple weeks ago."

He narrowed his eyes at her remark. "Pansy," he said, "we have many mutual friends, a good number of whom have offered their congratulations to me since the news broke. You have to be more specific than that."

"Oh yes. I forgot you could be slow at times." A smirk appeared on her face.

"Pansy!" he said warningly. He suppressed the urge to groan. That would only encourage his childhood friend, who knew how to push his buttons.

"Said mutual friend would have mentioned me in your discussion, of course."

Draco's forehead scrunched up as he tried to figure out who Pansy was talking about. "Do you mean Marcus Flint?" he asked. He frowned slightly as he remembered the last time he had seen that particular wizard. He had had no choice but to be rude in order to keep up appearances in public. Draco hoped he had not alienated Flint. The other wizard could prove to be useful later. However, he rather doubted that Flint had not taken umbrage at Draco's actions.

"Was there anyone else who talked about me?"

"No." Draco looked at her sharply. "As I recall what Flint was talking about, I can't see any reason for you to want to continue the discussion he started."

"You don't?" She arched an eyebrow his way.

"I don't. At least the Pansy I know wouldn't agree to what that blithering idiot was suggesting."

"Good," she stated with a nod of her chin. She leaned back against her seat, the tension in her shoulders fading as she relaxed. "I had to make certain."

"Of what?"

"That you weren't swayed by his fool notion. Trust me, Draco, if you were stupid enough to even think of asking me…" She shuddered violently. "Ugh! Well, let's just say I would have been very disappointed, especially since you would be throwing away all the good that proposing to Granger did for you."

"There's that on my end. I wasn't even tempted by what Flint suggested. I prefer to remain ensconced in society and its good graces, rather than retreat to its fringe. Particularly as I have first hand experience at how uncomfortable it is to live on that fringe," he said. "I can't imagine why he thought you would agree to such an arrangement with me or anyone else."

"He's a fool, that's why. You're right. I would never agree to that. If I suddenly took leave of all my senses and agreed with it, my parents would lock me up in my room until I regained them. I was raised to be a man's wife, not his mistress. I was taught that if a man isn't willing to make a formal promise to you, then he isn't worth being serious about. I am not going to settle for anything less than what any witch in my family had before me."

Draco nodded his head. "Yes. Far better to marry a Muggle-born than to be a mistress to a wizard like Flint. He's not even interested in influencing society."

Pansy frowned at his words.

"What? You don't like the idea of marrying a Muggle-born? I thought you too would see the folly of holding on to such outdated notions."

She waved his remark aside. "That's not it. I don't mind that notion. You're mistaken in assuming that Flint doesn't want to influence society."

"And how does he expect to do that if he is going to flaunt Wizarding law?"

"The way our parents chose to. With violence."

Draco froze. Flint had insisted that he wasn't stupid enough to go up against Potter, but Draco hadn't entirely believed that Flint meant to remain peaceful. He had noticed that while Flint repeated again and again that it would be foolish to duel Potter, Flint hadn't mentioned if he thought the same about dueling Potter's friends.

"It is kind of sad, really. You would think he would have learned that violence is not likely to be successful. Look at how spectacularly the last two Dark Lords have failed," Pansy continued. "Maybe if all the pure-bloods united behind one…but no that would never happen. There are too many like Slughorn, and I very much agree with that philosophy. Why fight and engage in bloodshed, when one can establish pure-blood superiority through other means?" She sighed. "Of course, our parents' use of violence only undercut those political means."

"It's a lost cause, if you ask me," said Draco. "I won't ever back that particular philosophy ever again."

"Yes, of course, because your reputation wouldn't survive that. It's is ironic that you have to willingly associate with Muggle-borns and half-bloods in order to even be acceptable to society. It makes me wonder if that's how the Weasleys originally became Muggle-lovers. Meanwhile all the pure-bloods who had been neutral are free to be as nasty and superior to them as ever. Though not if your future wife has anything to do with that, I think. I am not alone in thinking that."

"Which makes her a target," Draco concluded.

"Very much so." Pansy looked around the room. "It is secure here, is it not?"

"Of course. I made certain of that myself as I suspected some of the old wards had taken damage during the time the manor was occupied."

"Oh very good. You even spin facts when you're among friends. Your parents have taught you well." She raised a hand to silence him. "It's a compliment, Draco, not an insult."

"It doesn't much sound like one."

"There is that. But I'm doing you a favor, so if I'm not perfectly polite then you should ignore that."

"I already knew that Granger was a target for whatever pure-blood rebellion is out there," he noted. "You aren't telling me anything that I don't know."

"Well, I was about to but we keep getting sidetracked. Granger is more than just any target. Flint seems to have a personal vendetta against her for some reason. Whenever she comes up in a conversation, he practically foams at the mouth."

"Really? Do you know why he hates her?" asked Draco. He couldn't think of any reason for Flint to detest Hermione especially, but he had noticed that the other wizard had appeared especially hostile to her that night at the restaurant.

"No. I don't know why. He doesn't explain anything to witches. He doesn't think we're trustworthy enough evidently." She rolled her eyes.

"Just how much of a personal vendetta are you referring to?" he asked quietly.

"I think Flint would be happy to be sentenced to Azkaban if it meant that he killed Granger," Pansy explained. "The only reason why he hasn't done anything yet is because she's so hard to get to. But she's been spending more time going out with you so…"

"He might very well attack when we're together some place is what you're saying." She nodded her head. "One question though. Why are you telling me all this?"

Pansy's face crumpled up as though she was hurt by his question. "We've been friends ever since we were tots. Why wouldn't I tell you?"

"I can't imagine that Flint would look kindly upon you warning me about his proclivities towards violence."

"No he wouldn't. Yes I did take a bit of a risk seeing you. If anyone asks, I'll say that I wanted to see if you were serious about asking me or if I shouldn't bother waiting. Flint and his associates all think that I would naturally want to be included in all their schemes. The truth is that I can't stand them. It's insulting, the arrangement that they propose to have, and what's more, it takes all of a witch's power away. I won't ever agree to a situation where I have to rely completely upon a wizard's _word _to protect me and mine. That's why I choose to help out an old friend who was raised right and respects witches rather than a fool like Flint."

"Is that all?" Draco asked. There had to be more. Pansy always had several reasons for doing anything.

"Well yes…part of the reason Flint thinks I would be interested in such an arrangement is because I am not seeing anyone. Unfortunately, I don't know many half-bloods or Muggle-borns even though there are those I wouldn't mind being with."

"You want an introduction?" Draco asked, his jaw dropping.

"Introductions, dear, not an introduction. I want to have options, you know. And by your wife, not by you, as that will hold more weight." She laughed at his disbelieving expression. "Didn't I tell you earlier that I don't intend on settling for less than any witch in family before me had? I may not be able to marry a pure-blood, but that doesn't mean I won't marry a half-blood or Muggle-born with influence." Once again, he was reminded of how similar the two of the really were. That was no surprised as they had been brought up the same way. It was times like these that she really did feel like the sister he never had.

"All right. That seems like a reasonable request," he told her. He was happy to learn that Pansy still felt some loyalty to him, and he would do his best to cultivate it. The Parkinsons were very well-connected, and he preferred for them to be on his side. And if Pansy married the right wizard, she would become an even more valuable ally for him to have.

* * *

Draco paused at the top of the steps. The buzz resulting from the various conversations amongst the restaurant's patrons rose up to greet him, and he idly listened to it as he surveyed the room to find his party. He scanned the room several times before finding where his fiancée was sitting, along with Potter and his girlfriend. She was in a secluded table that was off towards the left of the room. He nodded his approval of her choice, although she couldn't see it. It was best for this first public meeting between him and Potter to have some modicum of privacy. They would still draw attention to their party—indeed he could see the vultures from the Daily Prophet already circling their table—but so long as everyone kept their voices down, the public wouldn't know if any vitriol was spilt. He would have liked it, however, if she had chosen another meeting place. It was a bit boring to always have to meet her family and friends over dinner. He would have appreciated perhaps going to the theatre to see a play or maybe a symphony. That last option was especially tempting as not only was a private box possible, he wouldn't be expected to make conversation with anyone.

He glided gracefully down the steps and towards Granger. She had owled him the day after she had been at the manor to let him know that she thought it was time for him to meet her friends in public. He had readily agreed. This meeting was long overdue. He and the other wizard would never be friends, but it was time for him to try and make his peace with Potter. Draco had made several attempts to speak with Potter before he had caught Granger, but he had been rebuffed each and every time. Potter couldn't do the same this time as it was Draco's fiancée who did the asking. When he and Granger had spoken a couple weeks ago about how they were to appear in public, it was very important for her to keep her friends close. He had agreed with her; a lot of Granger's value to him had to do with the fact that she had connections he could never hope to make on his own. She wouldn't believe it but it was more important to him that she remained in her friends' good graces than it was to her.

Draco didn't know what lies she had fed Potter and company about their betrothal—she wouldn't tell them the truth, as they would then push for her to reveal her secret—but whatever they had been, they certainly had been efficient. From everything that he had heard, she was as close as ever to them. Not even Weasel said a word against her, unlike what had happened when she had went outside their circle of friends to date when they were all still students at Hogwarts. He reached their table, feeling an odd tingling as soon as he drew within its vicinity, an earmark that someone had placed a privacy ward on the table, and a damn strong one at that. He suspected that had been Granger's doing.

"Good evening, darling," he said, leaning down to peck Granger on the cheek. "You are certainly looking lovely tonight." It wasn't just an empty compliment. She did look fetching when she put forth an effort with her appearance.

Granger blushed artlessly. "Thank you," she said in return. She turned her head to look at the rest of the party. "I don't think any introductions are necessary. We have all met before."

She-Weasel pasted a smile on her face as she greeted Draco while Potter all but growled at him. That earned Potter two elbows in his side—one from his girlfriend and the other from Hermione. Draco almost laughed. It seemed that his little witch was leaving nothing to chance. With Granger and Weasley flanking Potter, they could work together to keep him in line. It was very Slytherin of her. Draco remembered the time when Pansy had teamed up with Millicent Bulstrode against him as she had felt that he was too harsh a Quidditch captain towards the other members of the team. There was both safety and power in numbers, a fact that any clever witch could use to her advantage.

"Hello Malfoy," mumbled Potter after he received another jab from Granger. The green-eyed wizard promptly looked away. Draco repressed the urge to roll his eyes. He supposed he shouldn't expect too much from Potter. Granger had put off this public meeting between him and her friends, saying that she needed time to calm them down, and he had given her all the time she wanted. When she owled him to tell him they would be meeting Potter and his Weasley tart for dinner, he thought it would be a tolerable experience, one that he could live with. It seemed as though Potter was set on making dinner as miserable as possible however.

Then Granger shot Potter a look full of disappointment and something else Draco couldn't put a name to. Amazingly that was enough to make the other wizard's demeanor to change entirely. It was one of the most astonishing things Draco had ever seen. "I trust your parents have been well," Potter added, stiffly cordial.

"They are, thank you. My father has asked that I extend their regards to you tonight," Draco replied smoothly. His words caused a coughing fit on Potter's part.

"Oh honestly," Granger muttered in frustration beside him as the Weasley witch tried to help the other wizard by patting him on the back. "Here Harry. Take a drink of water." Hermione charmed a glass of water to float in front of him. Potter took a large gulp of water and his coughing fit soon subsided, though not soon enough for Draco's liking. Damn Gryffindors! He had not counted on their inability to deal with common courtesy when he had passed his parents' greetings on to Potter. The other wizard's coughing fit had drawn the attention of other diners, and Draco knew that most—if not all—of them suspected that he was the cause. Which he was, he supposed, but it hadn't been anything malicious, or even intentional. Draco hoped that there wouldn't be anything in tomorrow's Prophet implying that he had tried to poison Potter. He personally thought that should be too ridiculous a prospect to print because if he was going to do anything to Potter, it wasn't going to be in public like this.

"So how is business?" Granger asked brightly from her place beside him. He blinked. She had never asked him about his doings before.

"Well enough," replied the Weasley tart. "It's so hard, you know, to get people to give us a chance since we're so new and all." She sighed.

Hermione caught sight of his puzzled expression and decided to take pity on him. "Ginny here has started her own robe-making business. She has a small shop in Diagon Alley, and her designs are quite stunning." She smiled over at her friend. "What have you been doing to advertise? I am certain that once people see your work, you'll get more business."

"Yes, I know. But I've already spent so much on the actual space for the shop in Diagon Alley, on all the assorted materials—you wouldn't believe how many different shades of black there are Hermione—and on all the furnishings and equipment and…on everything really. I'm afraid I didn't leave much in my budget for advertising," said Weasley.

"You only have to say the word, and I'll be more than willing to help," offered Potter.

The witch snorted. "Thanks for the offer, but no. George has said much the same as well. I want to be able to do this on my own, without either of you jumping in to save me," she stated.

"It sounds like you're on your way to going out of business," Granger noted. "Don't let your pride get in the way of accepting help from your family and friends."

"Yes, well…I wouldn't be opposed to other forms of aid." Draco did not like the conniving look on she-Weasley's face.

Granger appeared unaware of her friend's schemes. "Well good luck with that, I suppose," she said mildly.

"Thanks. You know I was thinking that one good way—"

"Sorry to interrupt, Ginny, but it looks like the wine waiter will be here shortly take our drink order. We had best decide on something," Granger said smoothly. Conveniently enough, the waiter was headed their way. It almost seemed as though that stroke of good luck had been arranged, and it made Draco question whether his fiancée was actively preventing her friend from stating her request in front of him. He frowned; he would prefer not to have the robes for their wedding to be made by Weasley's pathetic little shop, and he didn't want this to be Hermione's way of avoiding his input into the selection of who the robe-maker would be. He resolved to bring up the topic himself as Weasley was proving to be very inept in doing so herself. It was no wonder that her shop was already on the brink.

Meanwhile, the waiter had arrived, and Potter was making a show of wanting to choose only the very best vintage. Draco didn't know who Potter was trying to fool, as it was obvious he didn't know what the fuck he was talking about. The idiot wound up going for the house wine, and Draco hoped that it wouldn't be too awful. The reasons for the bad show Potter was putting on soon became clear when Draco caught sight of the thankful smile Granger sent across the table. Evidently this was Potter's way of proving to Granger that he wasn't going to cause a scene in the crowded restaurant, which was something Draco wished to avoid as well. It almost made up for the coughing fit the other wizard had earlier.

After the waiter had left, Draco flashed his most dazzling smile at the Weasley tart. "I believe you were going to tell us about your idea on how to promote your new shop," he prompted her. He was rewarded by her smiling warmly back at him. Oddly enough Potter started growling at the dinner table—terribly poor manners that but he supposed that was to be expected from a savage like Potter. That poor behavior was soon put an end to when the other wizard gave a muffled 'ow' and then focused his glare at Granger. Draco was beginning to be impressed at how skillfully his witch was able to control her friends.

"Yes, I was, thank you," said Weasley. "I know you're busy planning for your wedding, Hermione. It seems I hardly see you any more because you're so busy."

"Part of that is work," Granger noted quietly. "You've heard enough of my complaints about Bal to know about that."

"Yes, but before all this"—Weasley waved a hand in his direction, and Draco felt a bit insulted to be reduced to a mere hand gesture—"I saw you more often and you looked less stressed. A wedding is too big for one person to plan alone. So I was thinking that you could turn all the clothing arrangements to me."

"I don't know about that Ginny," Granger started.

"Please Hermione! Think about it! You need the help, and I need the business. You can trust me. You could turn over all of that to me and not have to worry about a thing. And doing the robes for your wedding party would be a very good form of advertisement so it would really be no imposition on your part," Weasley pleaded.

It appeared that no one at the table was very pleased with her suggestion. Potter looked positively mutinous. He glared at his girlfriend as though he couldn't believe she made that suggestion, as if it were treason of the worst sort. It made Draco further appreciate that Granger was able to drag him here and make him behave reasonably well in remarkably little time. Given the animosity between him and the Gryffindors back in school, he would not have been surprised to hear that Granger needed months, not weeks, to convince her friends to play nice.

Hermione herself currently looked a bit put out with her friends. Her face was scrunched up as though she had just witnessed something distasteful, and he supposed she did. It was graceless, the way Weasley asked for Granger's help. The other witch made it sound as though she was doing Granger a favor, when the arrangement she had proposed was clearly to her advantage as he couldn't see her shop making anything slightly fashionable. It was very audacious of her to bring up the matter in front of him. Did she really think that any Malfoy would agree to let any Weasley take a part in planning a Malfoy wedding?

"I am certain that Hermione appreciates your offer, but I believe a more experienced robes-maker would be a more appropriate choice for an event of such significance," he stated firmly.

"I'll have you know that my designs have been very well received," Weasley sniffed haughtily.

"That they have been, Ginny, but this is different. There's not much time and so much to do…do you think your little shop could get everything made in time?" Granger pointed out.

"Of course I do! Otherwise I would have never made the suggestion in the first place." Weasley looked insulted. "I am not that poor of a friend that I would offer to do something I couldn't pull off. And what's more, you said yourself that you like what I've done to update traditional wizarding robes. Do you really want an old, staid set of wedding robes with no spark of creativity or originality to them?"

The waiter returned with the wine Potter had selected before anyone could reply to that. Draco took a small sip, inwardly wincing at the taste. He mulled over how he was going to make it clear that no Weasley was going to have anything to do in planning his wedding, no matter how much Granger might be enchanted with the idea.

The clatter of glass breaking distracted him from his thoughts. He glanced over to see that Granger had somehow managed to drop her glass of wine so that it spilt all over her as it had tumbled to the floor.

"It slipped," she said, blinking in confusion. "Just like that, through my fingers."

"Here," said Weasley. She stood up and walked over to where Granger was seated. "We had best get to the ladies' to clean that up. It will stain something awful if we don't take care of it right away."

Granger nodded, apparently still dazed at the whole turn of events, as Weasley escorted her away. The wait staff appeared to clean up the mess on the floor. That didn't take them long, and all too soon Draco was left alone with Potter. He hoped the other wizard would remember Granger's instructions to play nice.

* * *

Hermione fumed as she walked with Ginny to the loo. She had not wanted to leave Harry alone with Malfoy tonight. Yet the way Ginny kept going on and on about using her shop to make the wedding robes made it necessary for Hermione to arrange things so that she could speak with the witch privately as the other witch didn't get any of the hints Hermione had sent her way to drop the subject. It was rather frustrating. She didn't know how she could have been more obvious in her warnings that this was not the appropriate time or place to discuss the subject. She felt certain that Harry wouldn't do anything to Malfoy so long as he wasn't provoked and she thought that Malfoy knew better than to provoke her friend, but Hermione wasn't the sort of witch who liked to leave things to chance like that.

"No, don't do that," said Hermione sharply before Ginny could spell the door locked. She took out her wand and instead charmed the door so a bell would chime to warn them when someone approached. "It's too suspicious if you lock it, and besides, that doesn't keep track of those who are just trying to eavesdrop."

"You think of everything," Ginny said admiringly. Then she looked crossly over at her friend. "That was no accident, was it?"

"Of course not! Do I look that clumsy to you?" Hermione huffed in annoyance. "I didn't want to continue our current topic of conversation in front of Draco. You know that he wouldn't have agreed to let you take care of all the wedding attire."

"I thought he seemed open to the idea," Ginny sniffed.

Hermione wanted to tell Ginny that the witch was more of a fool than Hermione initially thought, but she checked her tongue. She settled for rolling her eyes. "The door may have seemed open but he was about to slam it shut. We can talk about it some other time, okay? You're one of my bridesmaids, and we can discuss it when we're out shopping this weekend. You are still going right?" The other witch nodded, and Hermione felt it would be safe to rejoin the wizards once the mess on her robes was taken care of. "Now I thought that you knew a charm to take care of all this?"

Ginny nodded and got to work, muttering about how hard it was to take care of wine stains. Hermione didn't see any reason to mention that she herself knew of three different spells that would clean her robes straight away. It was because of Ginny that she had to spill her drink all over her robes. It only seemed right that Ginny be the one to take care of the ensuing mess.

* * *

It was a bit unnerving to be sitting across from a wizard who seemed intent on boring a hole into your skull or at the very least, carving your heart out with a spoon. Draco sighed to himself. He wanted the public to believe that he and Potter were now on decent terms with one another so he could take full advantage of Hermione's long-standing friendship with the hero of the Wizarding World, but the other wizard wasn't cooperating. He supposed he should be grateful that Weasley wasn't here as well. There was no need for him to appear in public with Weasley. The feud between their families had been going on for years, and given that Draco was to marry the witch that Weasley was besotted with—well, it would shock no one if the ginger-haired wizard still wished Draco ill. He could live with that. However, Draco wasn't certain that he would survive the evening if he didn't interrupt Potter's thoughts of murder and mayhem towards him. He just had to choose a safe topic to bring up. That was harder than it sounded, as most topics Draco could think of were virtual minefields of danger. There was only one topic dull enough that might possibly be safe and even that was not a sure thing. However, it had to be better than sitting here and waiting for Potter to launch an assault upon him.

"So lovely weather we've been having these last couple of days," Draco said. He inwardly winced at how trite he sounded but reminded himself that he was attempting to stay alive after all.

"I haven't noticed," Potter replied. "I've been busy at work lately so I can't just gad about to check on the weather whenever I feel like it."

Trust Potter to refuse to cooperate when it came to defusing the tensions between them. Draco repressed a sigh and silently urged Hermione to hurry back so she could rein in her friend. Potter's behavior had gone downhill ever since she had left. "That must be hard, especially if your office has no windows. That's a mild form of torture, I imagine."

"I'm usually not there. One can hardly catch Death Eaters by sitting in your office and waiting for them to show up." Potter's glare went up in its intensity, and Draco knew that the other man was accusing him of still belonging to that group. That was the only way Potter's comments made any sense.

"So your lot is still working primarily at night?" asked Draco. He leaned forward in his seat, conspiratorially. "I don't think you'll have much luck doing that. Midnight meetings and the like—far too likely to arouse suspicions. You would have more success if you skulk about in broad daylight."

"You're someone likely to know all about that, aren't you?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Yes, Potter, I am very much aware of my past. I also don't intend to ever go down that road again." That was true though Draco knew that the other wizard still had his doubts. Draco did not ever intend to be so powerless, to be so afraid, or to be kept a prisoner in his own home. He would not repeat his father's mistakes.

"Words have little meaning," spat out Potter. "Don't think for one moment that I don't know the real reason why you proposed to Hermione! Awfully suspicious, isn't it, that the same day you propose is the same day her life falls into grave danger."

Draco raised an eyebrow. He knew that Potter was referring to the oracle in the Department of Mysteries that his informant had told him about. Draco also knew that Potter didn't know that he knew about that. He found himself wondering if the other wizard was allowed to reveal such information to a potential suspect. Though Potter did have a point. It was strange that the oracle would speak on the same day that he and Hermione registered their betrothal. Perhaps it was simply because it put Hermione back in the public eye. That was the first reason that came to mind, but he was getting off track. The threat to Hermione wasn't his primary concern at the moment; calming Potter down was. Though now that Draco thought about all that he knew, perhaps that was the best way to go about earning Potter's trust.

"I'm so glad you brought that up," said Draco slowly. "As I have reason to believe that Hermione isn't properly watching out for herself."

"What makes you say that?" Potter asked, eyeing him warily.

"I have been spending a fair amount of time with her, and it seems like she's too casual about everything. She should have more protective wards around her flat and making it unplottable would be ideal." Draco sighed dramatically. "But she won't listen to me. Have you considered saying something to her?"

"Okay, Malfoy. What do you know that I don't?"

"What? Still don't know anything specific even though it's been weeks since you've been given that warning?"

"What warning are you talking about?" Potter asked suspiciously.

"Shall we lay our cards on the table? I know about that oracle that went off in the Department of Mysteries. My family still has some friends, and said friends are concerned about what may happen to my fiancée."

"To Hermione? Or to you, when you get caught?"

"Get caught doing what? Trying to protect her?" Draco sat back in his chair, drawing himself up to his full height. "Potter, I know that we have never been friendly at all. I understand that you're worried about what my intentions are towards Hermione. I assure you that I wish her no harm. Quite the opposite in fact."

"Malfoy, of course you would say that, but your actions in the past lead me to believe that you're not being truthful here. I know you Slytherins tend to think that all Gryffindors are fools, but trust me. No Gryffindor is willing to believe that you went from being a foul boy who hated all Muggle-borns to being a wizard who is ecstatic to be marrying one."

"I was foul to you and your friends during school, wasn't I? But I was only repeating everything I heard at home. That last year at Hogwarts when I was always so worried about my mother…that really set me to thinking after everything was over. Everything that happened made me question whether or not my parents were right all along." He offered Potter a small smile. "You haven't seen me these last couple of years so you don't know how I've changed. Enough that Hermione has decided to give me a second chance, and I am no fool. I am not going to waste it. I know that she wants to set an example for the rest of the world to follow, to show everyone that it is time to move on. I am more than willing to help with her that, and I think that we will be very content with one another."

"That's hardly a stirring declaration of love," Potter noted.

"Would you believe one?" Draco replied. "Because you're more of a fool than I ever imagined if you would. I know that Hermione and I have been acting as though we can't bear to be apart, but you're one of her best friends. She's told you the truth. And I hope she's also told you that she intends to follow through with the promises we have already made to each other."

"Yes, she has. I assure you that both Ron and I pointed out the folly of her thinking."

"Thanks. Somehow I'm not surprised. Look, Potter, I am fine with you not completely trusting me. I think there would be something wrong with the world if you and I were ever close friends. But I am not out to hurt Hermione. Far from it, in fact. And I know that she's a target of some madman and—"

Potter suddenly came to attention. "Who?" he demanded.

"Excuse me?"

"Who is this madman? You know something you're not telling me, aren't you?"

"More like something that I can't tell you," hedged Draco.

"Malfoy, you do know that refusing to provide information can be seen as obstructing an official Auror investigation. And that the punishment for that is a minimum of a year in Azkaban?"

Draco held up his hand to stop the other wizard from continuing in that vein. "Yes, I am well aware of that. I am also aware of the fact that you weren't assigned to Hermione's case because evidently your superiors feared that your judgment would be clouded, more's the pity."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"Relax, Potter. I am just referring to the fact that if you were working on that case, you would have already assigned Aurors to keep track of Hermione constantly. Instead, she's free to gad about as she pleases, pretending as though nothing is wrong. The way she's acting, it's as though she doesn't know she's in danger."

"She always was the sort to ignore any divination advice. It doesn't help that the head of her department isn't enamored of her and so keeps her in the dark a lot of the time. Not that it matters too much in this instance, because I doubt she would heed the oracle's warnings. But that brings us back to the matter of you not divulging all of your information. I can hardly believe that you wish her no harm if you're protecting one of your friends."

"That's because the friend I'm protecting is my best source of information, and if something happened to her, I would be completely in the dark," Draco said sharply. "A dead informant can't tell you a thing, and a compromised one is worse because then you can't believe a thing they say. Potter, if I knew anything solid, you would be the first person I contacted. Well, the second person, after I tracked down Hermione to make sure that she's okay, given that the madman seems to have a personal vendetta against her."

"Names would be helpful here, both for keeping Hermione safe and for making me actually believe you."

"No, what would be more useful is if you started to track down if anyone has come up with an alternative to complying with the marriage law." Draco motioned for the other wizard to remain silent so he could finish talking. "If I gave you a name, Potter, that is all you would have. Yes, I know you would promptly charge off after the person I named. However, I also know that some members of your department are all too eager to write you off as paranoid and so they would ignore your suggestions if you don't have any proof. Furthermore, I have reason to believe that the Aurors aren't as secure as everyone wants to believe and it would get back to this person that his name was suddenly mentioned by you in connection with this case, which make it look bad for both me and the friend who has been so kindly feeding me information."

"How convenient. You always were one to twist the facts in your favor. You never planned on being helpful at all, did you?"

"On the contrary, I'll give you a bit of advice, which I'll thank you not to ignore again. Do a bit of work. Earn your pay. See who is vehemently opposed to the idea of complying with the marriage law, what alternatives have been proposed, and who has actually made arrangements for that alternative. Cross reference that with the list of wizards who ever had the slightest reason to hold a grudge against Hermione so you can further narrow the list of names down."

Draco paused so Potter could absorb all that information. After a moment of silence, he continued, "That should net you a few suspects. If you present your reasoning for them logically, like I just did, then you should be able to make some progress that your department won't be able to ignore."

"Is that all the help I can expect from you?"

"For now, that's all I feel safe giving you. Come on, Potter. Give me a chance. It would make Hermione happy." He shrugged. "And if it turns out that I really wasn't worth that chance, you can take it out on me then, when Hermione won't be likely to hex you for even thinking about jinxing me."

That earned him a smile from Potter, the first he had seen all night. "You do seem to have a healthy respect for Hermione's ability with magic," Potter said. "All right then. I'll see if your suggestions lead me anywhere. Though if I find you're playing us, I'll make things very uncomfortable for you."

"Thankfully, I have no reason to be afraid of that promise. Could you do something though about Hermione? When she's with me, she's safe because I'm there to keep an eye on things. When she's with you or your friends, she's safe for the same reason, but the times that she's by herself…"

"I'll see what I can do," said Potter.

"Thanks," replied Draco with completely sincerity. He really did not want anything happening to Hermione. If she was attacked and seriously injured, it would undoubtedly look bad for him. People were still all too willing to believe the worst of him. He also didn't want anything interfering with his plans to restore the influence of his family's name. Draco supposed it was just as well that Hermione had run off the way she did; it gave him a chance to talk with Potter alone to see if they could truly end hostilities.

"And we're back," announced his fiancée as she dropped into the seat beside him, looking to and fro at both he and Potter. He smiled brightly at her. Hopefully between his overtures and her ability to control her friend, the rest of the evening would go much more smoothly.

* * *

**Author's note**: Thanks for reading. I would love it if you would leave me a review to let me know what you think of this chapter and its developments.:)

My thanks goes out to Torry-Riddle, Arodwen, Select Another, Jaid Ziaen, Midnight Little One, kazfeist, iluv2dance, medusaasaphoenix, PotterEntourage, Gentileschi, misssweetsweet, shat, sugar n spice 522, dynonugget, peachyloco, MusicalCatharsis, and TyRaNdE wHiSpErWiNd for their reviews. Thanks so much.I really appreciate them and they do brighten up my entire day. :)


	10. Wild Card

**Ambition's End: Wild Card**

**Disclaimer:** None of these characters are mine as they all belong to JKR.

* * *

Hermione looked up to see who was at her door. A smile spread across her face as she recognized the form of her bespectacled best friend. "Hello Harry. How are you?" she said. She expected him to respond with a comment about how bored he was; that was his standard reason for coming over to visit her. Yet that was also proof that he had grown up. Back when they were at Hogwarts, a bored Harry Potter was one who was inevitably looking for trouble, no matter how much he protested to the contrary. 

"I had a spare minute so I thought I would drop by to see you," he replied as he flopped himself down on the seat across from her. "You're not horribly busy, are you?"

"I am always horribly busy, especially these days, but never too busy for a friend like you."

"Sometimes I think I don't deserve you. You do know how to make a bloke feel unworthy, don't you?"

She quirked an eyebrow up at him. "Okay, something tells me that you have some news that I am not going to like."

"You always were the perceptive one," he said with a sigh. "It's about my helping you with that research project of yours. I'm afraid I can't do that any longer."

"Work suddenly get busy for you?" she asked. Her friend had seemed distracted for the last couple of days, and the latest gossip going around the Ministry said that he had been arriving very early to work, implying that perhaps another raid was in the works. Hermione was happy for him. It was about time that the Aurors started to trust him more.

"Yes," he said sheepishly, hanging his head. "I know I promised to keep on helping you but…."

"No worries," said Hermione, brushing off his apology. "I understand completely, and I'm grateful for the help that you've already given me." She sighed and dropped her head. "Besides, it's not as though we were making much progress. I was thinking about calling the whole thing off," she said. She kept her words purposefully vague, just in case there were listeners. Even her office with all its extra wards was not completely secure from eavesdroppers and the like. Frankly, Hermione thought that was impossible. She hoped Harry would get the hint and also chose his words wisely.

Fortunately he did. "I know. It's a bit depressing, isn't it? Though I'm surprised to hear you calling it off. That's not like you."

"I'm not," she replied. "I was thinking perhaps I'm looking at this from the wrong angle. There must be something I'm missing. So I'm going to take another approach and start from the beginning."

"It sounds like you already have an idea about what else you're going to try," said Harry.

She nodded her head. "Yes, I do. But that's neither here nor there. Don't worry about not being able to help any more. I'm calling off the plan that we had been working on for now as it's not bearing any fruit."

"I'm sorry. If you need help later on, let me know. Who knows? I might be less busy then," said Harry.

"All right," she said. "Should I let you go now? As whatever you're working on, it must be keeping you busy for you to have to come in early and then stay late for it."

He looked rather startled at her words. "How did you know that I've been coming in early?" he asked.

"Ministry gossip," she replied. "I knew by lunch yesterday that you had showed up at six in the morning. You might want to consider doing what work you can do at home. Otherwise whenever you start working long hours, people will assume there's a raid in the works."

He winced. "I didn't think about that. We're still not anywhere near ready and so I was trying to speed up the process by working more. That wouldn't be good though, to give them a heads up like that."

"No, it wouldn't," agreed Hermione pleasantly. She was happy to hear Harry confirm her suspicions about a raid, though she wondered what exactly set the Auror division off. She knew better than to ask him though.

"And once again you prove that you're in the wrong department," he told her cheerfully.

That earned him a roll of her eyes. "Not this again," she groaned.

"Fine, fine. I won't start." He looked around at her office. It was neat, as usual, with all her files put away except for the one that she was looking at. "Tell me, can you take a break right now?"

"You need to do something about your short term memory. Didn't I say I was horribly busy when you first showed up?"

"Yes, you did, but never for a friend like me." He smiled boyishly at her. "Besides, this is about the other thing you asked me about."

"Oh! Do you mean finding a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?" she asked.

"Got it in one," he replied jovially. "Yes, it is. I've asked around a bit—discreetly of course, have no fears—and there is one particular Auror who I think would do a good job. He's been an active Auror for almost thirty years, but he's pushing sixty now and if it weren't for the fact that we're so shorthanded, I think he would have submitted his resignation months ago."

"So is he interested? And do you think he can teach?" asked Hermione. "Obviously he knows plenty about the subject if he's been an Auror for that long but that doesn't mean he can actually impart that knowledge to anyone."

"Yes, he's interested. I spoke with him privately, and he's very much intrigued with the idea of teaching at Hogwarts. Seems like he has a granddaughter who will be heading to Hogwarts in a few years."

"I see."

"And he can teach," Harry asserted. "He has always been very helpful to me and Ron whenever we had questions or did something wrong. Many of the senior Aurors get impatient whenever any of us junior Aurors have questions. They just want us to shut up and follow orders. Not Gaspar however. That's why I thought of him first thing when you asked about potential professors." Harry regarded her, absently pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "So do you have time today? As I know Gaspar is currently in the office."

Hermione shrugged her shoulders and then said yes. She really didn't have the time, but then there wasn't much time to find a new professor because school would be starting soon. "Gaspar, you said his name was?" she asked as she stood up to leave.

"Yes. Gaspar Walsh. You'll like him, Hermione. He's an affable old bloke who doesn't give a damn about blood purity. He says ability matters more than that."

"That's good to hear, especially if he's going to teach. It's too bad that my boss doesn't feel the same."

"That's his loss," said Harry. He got to his feet and shifted back and forth. Hermione stopped in her tracks as she knew that was his cue that he had something else he wanted to say in the privacy of her office. "So anyway, I was thinking that I'll introduce you to Gaspar today. I haven't spoken with Kingsley yet…"

"Which is fine. Let's not do that until we know that Minerva would be willing to hire him."

"That's what I was thinking. There's no point in bothering him unless we know it would work out on the Hogwarts end. He's bound to be peeved when we put the suggestion in to him after all." Harry paused. "But I was going to say that you can get to know Gaspar better while talking with him about the position at Hogwarts by agreeing to spar with him. You know, to keep your skills up and all that."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at her friend. "Is there something you're not telling me, Harry?"

"Well, you know about that oracle in your department," he started.

"Yes please, though that's no thanks to Bal. Honestly! I'm surprised the old man didn't shove that in my face, gloating at the fact that he'll soon be rid of me."

"Don't say things like that!" her friend admonished her.

"Please. I'm not going to go down that easily. I am not worried at all. Let them come. I'll be ready to meet them," she said, her every word full of confidence in her abilities.

"Yes, exactly. Which is why sparring with an experienced Auror would help out there. Don't look at me that way, Hermione. You can always get better," Harry said pleadingly.

She considered his words. He was right. One could always improve one's skills. Also she did want to meet with him, if only briefly, before contacting Minerva to set up an interview. Besides it would make her friends worry less about her, and that was always a good thing. She didn't want any of them to start following her every move. That would be very tiresome for her.

"All right," she finally said. "So long as he has no objections, I'll agree to that."

"He's already agreed to that too. I asked him about that when I approached him initially," Harry admitted.

"Thinking ahead?" she asked.

"I learned from the best," he replied as he stepped aside to let her go by. "Ready to brave the masses?" he asked.

She groaned, thinking of how everyone was bound to be watching her friend escort her to the Auror division. She didn't want to think about what new sorts of rumors would pop up about that. "As ready as I'll ever be," she said. She opened the door, and they walked out.

* * *

It was a rare occasion these days when Draco saw one of his old housemates. Most of them avoided him after the war as his family had fallen from grace with Wizarding society. It had chafed at him that his closest friends since childhood didn't care to visit him any more, but if he was honest with himself, he would have done the same if he was in their place. He was very glad that his plan had improved his family name to the point that his old friends felt that they could associate with him once more, as witness Pansy's visit and the invitation to Theo's wedding. 

Blaise Zabini, however, was never one of his friends. The two of them were civil enough to one another, but that was it. After all, with his mother's reputation, Zabini was hardly a fit wizard for Draco to socialize with, and so he had steered clear of the wizard at school. Most of his housemates had done the same, so Zabini was a bit of a lone wolf while he was at Hogwarts. That arrangement had served him well enough in the end, as he was the only person from Slytherin who was employed as an Auror. Draco supposed it was ironic how Zabini's name had been held in a higher esteem that his family's ever since the war's end.

"Try again," Draco said scornfully as he continued to glare at the other wizard. Zabini had barged into his office only moments before Friday afternoon, having bypassed Draco's secretary. When Draco had asked what he was doing here, Zabini acted like cheeky bastard he was and simply replied he was here to catch up with an old friend. Obviously the other wizard hadn't been hired as an Auror for his brains as there was no way that Draco was going to accept that line. "We were never friends," Draco added, almost as an afterthought.

"We weren't?" Zabini appeared to be all innocence as he lounged in the seat on the other side of the desk. "Somehow I thought we were. Just because I was never amenable to being one of your lackeys doesn't mean that we weren't friends. You and Nott were always thick as thieves, and Merlin knows that he didn't follow you around like a lost, little lamb. Though Crabbe and Goyle were more pigs than sheep." Suddenly the smile dropped from his face and was replaced by his usual sneer. Draco inwardly gloated. Now there was the Zabini he knew and loathed.

"Oh that's right," Zabini said. "I was never good enough for you to associate with. I believe I was the only one in our year in Slytherin to never receive an invitation to visit Malfoy Manor over the summer. I believe you and yours had qualms about the reputation of my mother."

Draco wasn't about to be pulled into a verbal argument with the other wizard. He kept his mouth shut about what a conniving slag everyone knew Zabini's mother to be. Instead, he settled on saying, "No, my mother was never very fond of yours but I don't pretend to know her reasons why." He shrugged. "What man can understand how women think?" he asked rhetorically.

"Indeed," agreed Zabini pleasantly, his demeanor changing once more. "Though I must say, the same goes for us. Who can understand how a Slytherin thinks? Not even a fellow Slytherin, it appears."

Draco raised an eyebrow at the dark wizard. He decided to drop his façade of studied indifference and be completely blunt. "Just what is that supposed to mean?" he asked.

"Oh dear me. I thought I was being perfectly clear too, but maybe it's because as a Slytherin you're not used to such honesty. Or maybe your vaunted intelligence is merely a myth," the other wizard replied, leaning back in his seat.

"Zabini, if your purpose in coming here was to insult me, then please leave. I have better things to waste my time on. Now explain yourself or get out," Draco ordered him.

"Explain myself?" repeated Zabini with an innocent air about him. "I must confess I do not know how I could better express myself. There are no hidden meanings in my words. I said that I find it impossible to tell how you, a Slytherin like myself, thinks."

"Is that so?" Draco asked shortly. He waited for the other wizard to further explicate what it was he wanted from Draco.

"Oh, it is. Did you know, by the way, that Potter has been very busy these last couple of days? It seems that he has been burning the midnight oil, and he has come up with some very interesting theories. I would tell you what they are, as a favor from one housemate to another, but I am afraid that I'm not privy to them. Whatever it is, it appears that Potter might actually get to see a bit of action and be in on a raid in the next couple of weeks." Zabini paused for dramatic effect.

"Yes, Potter has been very busy lately. It's funny. After he had dinner with his old friend Hermione Granger and her new fiancé, he's been coming in early to research. And it's incredible how quickly his research has borne fruit. It's as though he's been inspired somehow. Given how well you're acquainted with that bint's new bloke, I thought you might know what got Potter going." Zabini leveled a stare at Draco.

"Really?" Draco looked down and examined his nails. "And why is that?"

"Because I'm no fool, Malfoy, and you would do well to remember that," Zabini said icily. "Unfortunately it appears that I can't say the same for you, so I came here for an explanation. Tell me, why did you go to Potter? He's not your contact in our department. You would have been better served by telling your contact so that he could get the credit and the promotion for your information."

"And just how do you know that I have a contact within your department?" Draco asked, his full attention directed at the other wizard. "In case you haven't noticed—"

"It's harder for you to find someone to take your bribes?" Zabini finished for him. He snorted. "I know that perfectly well, you fool. Who do you think it was who convinced Chambers to take your money? My partner would have never have done that, without my recommendation on the path to take. Alas, it appears that I overestimated your cunning, and you're not willing to pass along information in return, despite the obvious advantages that would have."

Draco glowered at the wizard before him. "And just why should I believe that you're responsible for my contact? What proof do you have that you influenced Chambers?" he asked.

"I have no proof to show you. You'll just have to take my word," replied Zabini flatly. He met Draco's stare head on. "But I ask you this—what would you have done in my situation?" Zabini added.

Draco thought about it. If he had a partner approached by a former housemate to be a contact within the Ministry…Draco mentally swore. He would have done exactly what Zabini claimed to have done and influenced his partner to take the offer, with the same sorts of expectations that Zabini had. Obviously Zabini had hoped that Draco would pass along some worthwhile information to Chambers, as it would benefit Draco for his source to continue to rise amongst the ranks of Aurors. Since that didn't work, Zabini had decided to show his hand in order to let Draco know that he owed the other wizard. It didn't matter that Draco hadn't asked for the favor; it had been done for him, and so by all rights, his former housemate should get something in return.

Draco grimaced briefly before speaking again. "I didn't tell Potter anything much. All I did was to suggest that if he looked to see who was desperately seeking a way out of complying with the marriage law and cross-reference that with the list of people who have a grudge against Hermione, then maybe he would get somewhere."

Zabini closed his eyes, and silence reigned over the room as the other wizard pondered Draco's words. Finally, he said, "I take it that Marcus Flint is responsible for much of this then."

Draco was taken aback. "And just how did you come to that conclusion without any research?" he asked.

"It's simple. I was assigned to this case. I know it like the back of my hand. Unlike other junior Aurors whose names I will not mention, I am capable of retaining information, and the wizard who best fits those two categories is Marcus Flint." A smug smile stretched across his face, and he leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out before him. "For some reason, Flint pegged Granger as the reason why Katie Bell told him no all those months ago. He must know something that I don't know as no one else has made that connection." Zabini shrugged and looked expectantly at Draco as he waited for a response.

"Maybe Flint just can't come to terms with how unattractive he truly is to a witch," Draco offered. If Granger had done something to break the pair up, he knew nothing about it. He mentally filed that bit of information away so he could look into it later, although he had no idea where to start with that.

"That's entirely possible," Zabini agreed. "By the way, you didn't tell Potter the name of your informant?"

"That would have been very ill of me to do, to repay my friend by exposing my friend's name to someone in the Ministry. The Ministry's reputation for being a nest of gossips is well-deserved."

"That it is," said Zabini with a smirk, which made Draco wonder if what little he had said had been too much. "I won't ask for her name, but I will ask that you let her know that should she need official help that she should approach me. I am always willing to help out a fellow Slytherin." Zabini paused to let his words sink in. Draco was in the midst of mentally berating himself for not choosing his words more carefully when the other wizard spoke up once more.

"I hope that you as well will think of me and my partner when you have more information that you want to share. If you had made your suggestion to Chambers initially instead of to Potter, the raid that is starting to get planned would be closer to being carried out," Zabini said mildly.

Draco narrowed his eyes at the other wizard and stretched languidly. "Don't worry. I will keep that in mind. Of course when it comes to Hermione's safety, I doubt you would be as thorough as Potter is in his work. One must always consider who will do the best job."

Zabini shifted forward in his seat to glare at Draco. "On the contrary, my partner and I would do a better job than Potter. He's all vim and vigor, but he doesn't think to see the schemes that lie behind the schemes. For that, you need a team like mine—all the cunning of a Slytherin paired with the intellectual might of a Ravenclaw. If you're wise, you'll not forget that." Just like that, Zabini settled back down and the intensity in his eyes was gone.

"And just as a parting note, I do hope you and your fiancée enjoy yourselves tonight," he said, taking Draco by surprise. "Do be careful though. Horribly dangerous sport, Quidditch. I wouldn't go myself. Who knows what sorts of accidents can be arranged?"

Draco nodded his head. He hadn't thought about that. It was too late to change plans, and he wasn't certain that he would even if he could. He refused to be ruled by fear the way he had been when he was younger. He would simply keep an eye out for any danger whenever he was together with Hermione. He smirked to himself. If anyone dared to attack Hermione while he was around, they would soon learn the caliber of wizard that they were dealing with in him.

* * *

Draco grasped Hermione's hand as he led her to their box for the match. Back when they had discussed making public appearances, she had readily agreed to go with him whenever his team, the Wimbourne Wasps, had a match. Tonight was the first time that they were playing ever since that discussion. She had met him at his office, and then he had Apparated them to the back entrance of the Quidditch pitch at Ellis Moor.

The rest of the afternoon had seemed to crawl by after Zabini had left. He had repeatedly looked at the clock across from him, only to find that the minutes hand had barely moved. It had been slow torture, waiting for the day to end, as his mind couldn't help but consider what may happen due to his hints to both Potter and Zabini. Hopefully his actions would lead to the oracle at the Department of Mysteries singing a different tune about Granger's safety shortly. When his secretary had finally announced Hermione's arrival, he was only too ready to Apparate to the stadium.

Although they had arrived at the back entrance, there were still a few reporters around. He stifled a groan as he recognized several from the Daily Prophet as well as one flighty brunette from Witch Weekly, who was fairly obsessed with him. He winced at the memory of the last time he had been cornered by the tart.

"Let's hurry," he said quietly to Hermione. She nodded her agreement, and he was suddenly struck at how well they got along together while in public. He had thought that it would take longer for them to be accustomed to simply being together. However it was now second-nature for him to take her hand in order to lead her when they were together. Perhaps it was the unconscious part of his mind seeking to remind her of his hold over her. She never complained though, and he wondered at the reasons for her complacency. She must be truly frightened of the information he held over her head, he decided. That was the only reason he could think of. Certainly she had nothing to gain from appearing to be so comfortably in love with him in public. Whatever the reason, pretending to be in love was something they both did automatically now whenever there might be someone watching.

They finally past through the gauntlet of reporters, ignoring all attempts to question them, and started climbing the stairs to their box. "Slow down," Hermione demanded.

"Sorry," he said. "I forgot you're afraid of heights."

"I'm not afraid of them," she replied sharply. "The stairs are simply too steep for my liking here."

"I see," he said. He decided there was no point in challenging her assertion. He wasn't going to start an argument in public. It took them several minutes to get to their seats, which were as high up as one could get.

"Please don't tell me we're sitting at the very edge," she said as they arrived at their box. She grasped his hand tightly. He wondered if that was the true reason why she didn't object to holding hands with him; she wanted to have someone to cling to when climbing up stairs or facing heights in general.

"Of course, we're at the edge. Those are the best seats, my dear."

"Of course." He glanced over at her and saw that her face had turned pale.

"Not afraid of heights?" he asked once more.

"Not at all. I'm just worried about being so close to the action. Quidditch is a dangerous sport."

"Yes," he agreed, "but it has been ages since any spectators have been injured. The officials are very good about that, and the penalties are harsh for hitting a bludgers towards the stands."

"I know," she said. She didn't say another word as they took their seats. Once they were sitting, she folded both her hands in her lap and sat far back in her seat as possible. He raised an eyebrow at her actions.

"Wishing you brought a book?" he asked.

"It would be a welcome distraction," she admitted. "There isn't much to do since the match hasn't started yet."

"You could watch the warm-ups," he suggested.

She looked at the players who were currently on the pitch and shuddered at their high-speed maneuvers. "No thank you."

"Your choice," he said. "I've invited some of my business associates to the game. I'll introduce you once they arrive, and perhaps you can find something to talk about with one of them." He idly watched the pitch as the players completed their warm-ups while keeping an eye out for new arrivals. They slowly trickled in and each time someone arrived, he promptly introduced Hermione to them. He didn't want her to get too bored. Draco was gratified to see that they accepted her. Indeed she seemed to relax as she began talking with Joshua Ashtear and his wife Sophia about puzzle wards. He quickly tuned out their conversation as it was far too theoretical for his liking. All the conversations around him stilled as the announcer started calling out the names of the players.

The players for first the Wasps and then the Montrose Magpies were introduced. After that, all the Quidditch balls were released, heralding the start of the match. Draco's team was the first to score, and he sprang to his feet to cheer them on. The Wasps built a healthy lead, scoring goal after goal. The coach for the Magpies was soon forced to call a time out to harangue his players for playing so poorly.

Draco spared a glance for Hermione when the time out was called. She had remained mostly in her seat, though she did cheer whenever the Wasps scored. "Enjoying yourself?" he asked.

She flashed a smile at him. "Yes actually. I had forgotten what a pleasant diversion the game can be when you don't personally know anyone who is playing."

"My mother's often said the same thing. Can't figure out what she's talking about for the life of me."

Hermione rolled her eyes and playfully swatted his arm. "Meaning you prat that she can't enjoy herself when she's worried about your safety."

He grinned back at her. He knew that at least a quarter of the cameras in the stadium were pointed in their direction, and she was playing the part of a besotted witch perfectly. "Is that it?" he asked in mock-astonishment.

"You know it is, and you don't care. I swear you wizards are all alike when it comes to Quidditch. You don't care how badly you're hurt so long as you win."

"That sounds about right," he said. The game started once again, and the two of them stopped talking in order to pay attention to the match. Unfortunately whatever the Magpies' coach had said worked. Or at least for their keeper, who now was more vigilant in guarding the hoops from the Wasps' chasers. Then a flash of gold caught his eye. Peering down, he saw the snitch hovering a few feet below and to the right of them. He scanned the field to see if his team's seeker had also noticed the elusive ball. The seeker hadn't. Draco gritted his teeth together to stop himself from saying anything that would give away the location of the snitch as the Magpies' seeker was closer to it. He followed the snitch's movement from out of the corner of his eye, inwardly cursing all along at how incompetent the seeker for his team was.

"Thinking about making a personnel change tomorrow?" asked Hermione.

"What? You see it too?" He whipped his head around and he saw her nodding in the general direction of the snitch.

"I noticed that you were keeping track of something so I just followed your line of sight."

"Blast. I had better stop that then before someone else cottons on," he said. He sighed. "And no, I don't plan to fire anyone tomorrow mainly because the team's administrative office is closed for the weekend. Otherwise I would start looking at promoting our reserve seeker straight away."

"Do you have any plans for the weekend?" she asked.

"No, not as yet," he replied. "How about you?"

"Oh you know," she said with a shrug of her shoulders. "Shopping for the wedding. I assume you don't want to come."

"No. I am certain I'll find a way to keep busy." He shuddered. That was one of the last things he wanted to do. However, he also didn't want Hermione to go out by herself, feeling that it would be safer for her to go with someone. "You're not going alone, are you?" he asked. He would rather not go but that was better than the alternative.

"Merlin no. Both Katie and Ginny will be helping me," she told him.

"That's good." It was on the tip of his tongue to suggest that his mother go along as well, but he thought the better of it. His mother and Hermione did not get along. He knew that his mother had enjoyed irritating Granger by giving her too long of a guest list, and he worried that nothing would get done if his mother went along. Draco did want his wedding to be decent, although he didn't want to be all that involved in planning the details. The best way to accomplish that, he felt, was to leave Hermione alone with access to that vault of his.

Just then, the Wasps' seeker awoke from his stupor and spotted the snitch. "Finally!" Draco swore as he leapt to his feet to encourage the player to fly faster in order to catch it. After two and a half hours, he was ready for the match to end.

* * *

Hermione groaned and set her book aside. It was late Friday night—practically early Saturday morning—and she could not get to sleep despite having a full slate planned for the weekend. Physically she was tired. After a long day at work and then the excitement of the Quidditch match, her body was more than ready for bed. But when she tried to go to sleep, her mind was too full of thoughts for her to rest. In the end, she had decided to get up and read until her eyes couldn't help but close. 

It wasn't working.

She couldn't stop thinking about her lack of progress with uncovering who was behind the plot of keeping Muggle-borns away from Hogwarts. It was beyond frustrating. It was beginning to affect her sleep as she kept thinking that she was missing something very obvious. She wasn't used to being frustrated in her research like this. What Hermione was used to was getting results.

Hermione shook her head to clear it and wondered if a cup of tea would help settle her down. She decided against it as it was already late and she needed to get more sleep. She wasn't going to do any good if she kept allowing her sleep deficit to increase unabated. Still it was impossible for her to shake that nagging feeling that she was overlooking something. Sighing, she leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes.

If she were to start from the beginning, the first question that came to mind about the whole issue was how were the Muggles located. As far as Hermione knew, Hogwarts letters were very secure. She had spent a day in the archives at the Ministry trying to find any references to the letters being intercepted before, but there were none. Before that, she had consulted with several of Hogwarts' older professors, but their recollections were all in line with Minerva's. Hermione was left to conclude that whoever was behind this plot was not learning about the identities of Muggle-borns by intercepting the letters.

Hermione got up and began to pace back and forth in her living room. The next method that she had considered was whether the list kept at Hogwarts detailing all their future students had somehow been compromised. Last week, she had consulted with Minerva on that as well. Evidently there were only two people who had access to that list, and that was Minerva herself and the current Transfiguration professor, Melchior Landale. Hermione had met Melchior on several occasions, and she did not believe that the dear old man would leak the list to anyone, given how diligent he was with all of his duties. Furthermore, Melchior was a Muggle-born like herself, so it wasn't likely that he would associate with anyone looking to keep Muggle-borns from attending Hogwarts.

She had also asked Minerva if it was possible that an illicit copy of the list had been made back during the war while Hogwarts was under the control of the Death Eaters. Minerva assured Hermione that simply wasn't possible; the protections cast upon the list ensured that the only names revealed to anyone were those of children of age to attend Hogwarts. Therefore, any copy made wouldn't include the names of children receiving their first Hogwarts letter this year. Hermione was happy to hear about that the list hadn't been compromised, but it did make her job harder.

She sighed and shook her head. There had to be something that she was overlooking. As Hermione turned around so she could continue pacing, a glint of metal caught her eye. The computer her parents insisted that she get was in the corner of the room, and after a moment's consideration, Hermione shrugged her shoulders and walked over there. _It's very improbable_, she thought to herself, _but it's worth a check._

After her computer booted up, Hermione opened up her web browser. The friend who had set up the computer had configured her browser's home page to be at a popular search engine. _That's a good thing too as I'm not entirely sure I would have remembered how to get to one_, she thought. Hermione quickly typed in 'Hogwarts' into the search bar and pressed enter.

Scanning the results, Hermione was surprised how much information the search engine had retrieved. She had not ever known that Hogwarts also referred to a type of lily, but all of the pages retrieved were about this lily. She made a mental note to look into the flower and to see if there were any currently at the school. Hermione scrolled down to the bottom of the page and hit the next button, just to make sure all the results were the same. She always did like being thorough in her research, but fortunately, there were only three pages of results, so it wouldn't take her too much time.

Near the bottom of the second page, Hermione finally found what she had been looking for. Hermione sat up straight in her chair as she read the description of the page listed by the search engine. The website promised inside information about letters from a school named Hogwarts. Holding her breath, Hermione clicked on the link, wondering if she had finally found the way the Muggles had been contacted.

The website the link took her to was small but well-organized. The home page of the site contained various warnings about Hogwarts and how parents should take the letters and the threat the letters represented to their children seriously. Hermione bristled as she read those warnings. Below all of that were several links. The first link was to a description of the school and its location, the second link was to a history of Hogwarts and the atrocities that occurred there, and the third link was about the reaction to everything that happened at the school. At the very bottom of the page, there was an e-mail address displayed so that those wanting more information could contact the website's owner. Hermione frowned but decided to ignore the e-mail address for now in favor of reading everything on the website.

Once she was finished, Hermione sat back in her seat. She took a deep breath, trying to calm down. What everything the website had published was true; Muggle-borns were treated horribly during what should have been her seventh year and even before that, it was not uncommon for them to be taunted for their blood status. It was also true that not everyone was punished the way they deserved after the war. Hermione herself would have liked to have seen more Death Eaters given life sentences in Azkaban, but practically speaking, she knew that they would never had stopped fighting if that was to be their fate. Hence only the very worst offenders were given that punishment, while most everyone else got away with fines. There were even those who avoided the fines by arguing they were coerced, such as the Malfoys. Hermione didn't like the fact that punishments tended to be light, but she thought that it was worth it in order to ensure the end of hostilities.

Yet while everything on the website was true, it put a spin on things that made it appear as though the Wizarding World was still a very dangerous place for Muggle-borns when the opposite was true. The pendulum had shifted in favor of accepting Muggle-borns as full members of the Wizarding community. Old pure-blood families who had looked down upon Muggle-borns were now the subjects of public scrutiny when it came to matters of blood purity, and their reputations could be ruined if they made the wrong remark. Furthermore, one of the first acts that Kingsley Shacklebolt had introduced criminalized discrimination based upon blood purity. If it weren't for that, Hermione's boss would have been able to fire her a long time ago. However the website didn't mention any of the improvements that the Wizarding World had made when it came to the treatment of Muggle-borns. Instead the website made it sound as though the Wizarding World was as bad as ever for Muggle-borns.

Hermione went back to the front page. _Should I e-mail the site owner? It's the next logical step_, she thought to herself. _No. I wonder if that could be traced. Because I don't want them to find out that it's me e-mailing them, instead of just a concerned parent._ She frowned as she considered her options. _I think I need more information,_ she decided. _Which means I better made a quick trip to get some books on the subject. It's too bad that it's so late because nothing is open any more_.

That decision made, Hermione went to bed so she could get up first thing in the morning. She wanted to get the earliest start possible so that she could get as much research into the subject crammed into the weekend. Unfortunately, she would be unable to spend the entire weekend learning about the Internet because she had a shopping trip planned on Saturday afternoon with Katie and Ginny. Hermione would put that off but she really could not afford to do so, given that they were supposed to be shopping for the wedding. There wasn't much time to finish planning everything for it. At least she would have all of Sunday for reading. Her last thought before she fell asleep was whether she was wrong to assume that a pure-blood was behind everything.

* * *

**Author's note:** Thanks so much for reading. I would really love it if you would leave a review and let me know what you think. :) Things are really going to start to pick up, I think, in two or three chapters. 

My thanks goes to oneamsoundstage, wickedwench1, sugar n spice 522, Mari22Ana, SelectAnother, Jaid Ziaen, Zekintha, German Lady, kazfeist, dynonugget, RememberMe2, misssweetsweet, medusaasaphoenix, inadaze22, and shat for their reviews. :D Truly I appreciate you taking the time to review this fic of mine. Thanks so much.


	11. Bonus Coin

**Ambition's End: Bonus Coin**

**Disclaimer:** None of these characters are mine as they all belong to JKR.

* * *

Draco wove his way through the crowd even as he casually checked his watch. He was running more than a few minutes late but that was fine. He doubted that his old friend expected him to be on time anyway. He was never known for being punctual as a child, and Draco was rather certain that Theo would not think that part of his personality had changed.

His mother had handed him Theo's note asking for Draco to meet him at Gringotts last night when he had returned home. That had been a brilliant stroke on Theo's part. Even for a childhood friend, Draco might have replied asking for a more convenient time if he had received the request when neither of his parents was present. But since his mother had been there when he had opened the note, there was no possibility of him turning his old friend down. The elder Malfoys were, if possible, more eager than their son to mend their reputation in the Wizarding World. A good part of doing so was reestablishing the contacts amongst their peers they had taken for granted while Draco was still a student at Hogwarts.

Entering the bank, Draco scanned about to look for his old friend. It took him a couple of minutes, but once his friend was located, Draco could surmise the reason why Theo had asked him to meet at Gringotts. That had puzzled Draco last night as it wasn't the first place he would think of for a meeting, but if the box Theo was carrying was what Draco thought it was then it suddenly made sense.

"Good morning," said Draco as he approached the other wizard. He nodded at the box. "Your wedding is next week, isn't it?"

For a moment, Theo sized him up warily making Draco wonder about the other wizard's reasons asking for this reason, but then Theo broke out into a smile. "It's good to see you, Draco. It has been a long time, but I see your grasp on the usual pleasantries that are exchanged remains the same as ever. Non-existent, that is to say, since you're always wanting to get to the point." Theo's smile took out much of the sting to his words. "And yes, it is next Saturday so I thought that I had better pick this up before then." He gestured towards the long, thin box.

"Your mother's wedding ring, I assume?"

"Yes, along with the other jewelry she wore when she was wed. It wasn't my idea to use it. Nadia insists on it though I've done my best to convince her otherwise." He shrugged. "Part of me is hoping that she will decide it is the ugliest thing she has ever seen so that we will have to go looking for a replacement."

"I see," Draco said sagely. Theo's mother had died while he was still very young. Society being what it was, there was always the worst sort of rumors going around about the cause of her death. The truth of the matter was that she had become deathly ill with a sickness that ran in her family, which fortunately had not reared its ugly head in Theo himself. Draco supposed that was one reason why his friend had been so quick to embrace the marriage law. By marrying a Muggle-born, Theo was trying to breed that illness out of his family's line.

"I suppose you do," Theo replied quietly. "I have little hope of convincing Nadia that we shouldn't use them as she is a most stubborn little witch."

"That's probably part of the attraction," Draco noted slyly.

"You would know, wouldn't you? Speaking of Nadia, she has been dying to meet you and more particularly your fiancée. Seems like your Miss Granger and her prolific study habits are very much idolized by young Ravenclaws."

"Really?" asked Draco, lifting up an eyebrow. "Well I am certain that Hermione would be amenable to meeting an old friend of mine and his fiancée. Or his wife, as it may very well be."

"No, I fear it shall be fiancée," said Theo. "Yes, I know the wedding is a week away. But like I said, Nadia is fearsomely stubborn when it suits her. She's insisting that we meet as soon as possible, this week if you two have the time."

"I believe we will," said Draco. "Can I let you know later? I just want to owl Hermione first to see when would be best for her."

"That's fine. Nadia practically worships her and she wouldn't want to inconvenience her. The important thing is that I asked otherwise then I would really be in trouble," said Theo. "In any case, it's good to see you acting true to form and showing up late as that gave me time to complete my errand here. Have you eaten yet?"

Draco shook his head no.

"Good. Shall we have lunch together then? It's been such a long time, and we have a lot to catch up on." Draco readily agreed as he had missed his closest friend from childhood. It was good to have someone to talk to about all manners of inconsequential things once more.

* * *

At the same time Draco was meeting with his friend, Hermione was also to be found in Diagon Alley. If she had to do it all over again, however, she would have found a way to exclude Ginny from this shopping excursion. Katie's tastes were very similar to Hermione's, and neither witch was overly fond of shopping. Ginny Weasley, however, was another story. Hermione thought that it was perhaps because the younger witch had very few opportunities to buy whatever she wanted as a child that she now loved to shop. Whatever the reason for it, it was very much exhausting.

The three of them had started off meeting at Hermione's flat. She had invited them in to talk about where to go first when Katie had asked her what theme she was going to use for the wedding. Unfortunately, Hermione hadn't made a decision about that yet so the three of them had sat down to brainstorm about potential themes. She had immediately vetoed the Halloween idea that Ginny had tossed out, noting that the wedding would be shortly before that date. That had been a horrible idea and she didn't want to think about what people would make of having that as a theme. Then Katie had suggested a seasonal theme of autumn. Hermione had nixed that one because she could see how that could be portrayed negatively as well. Both of her companions had protested that she was being too picky and virtually anything she picked would have its downsides.

Seeing as they were getting nowhere, Ginny had put forward that they might get new ideas by looking at wedding cakes. Hermione and Katie had agreed, and so they had arrived at one of the specialty cake shops that Ginny knew about. The cakes in there were all works of wonder. At least momentarily, Hermione was grateful that she had brought along Harry's girlfriend. Ginny knew Diagon Alley much better her, and so she was useful to have along.

However, Hermione was beginning to get annoyed at the younger witch. Ginny had been effusing over a five-tier cake, decked out with roses and birds and all manners of decoration. On top were miniature figurines, made to look like a bride and groom. The tiny figurines were too busy have a bit of a snog to wave at people looking at the cake the way they were supposed to. She shuddered. She really didn't want to have miniature figurines of her and Malfoy on top the cake at her wedding. She imagined they would be arguing at best or be engaged in a duel to the death at worst. That would make it dead obvious that the two of them weren't in love. That simply wouldn't do. Ginny was taken with the cake, as well as with the idea of using romance as a theme.

To add to Hermione's annoyance, Ginny kept pressing her to commit to using her shop for the wedding party. If Ginny had just kept her mouth shut, Hermione probably would have already done so but the way the other witch kept badgering her about the subject made her feel stubborn about the whole matter. Besides, she wanted her robes to be simple in design. She had admired Ginny's designs because of their minimalism, but the ginger-haired witch seemed to throw that aesthetic out the door when it came to weddings. The younger witch was likely to design her own set of dream robes for a wedding, instead of thinking what her client would prefer. Because of that, she wasn't sure if it would be a good idea to ask the other witch to do the job. She might wind up with a set of robes resembling the frilly overdone horror that Ginny was currently extolling as the perfect wedding cake—only with chiffon and organza to substitute for frosting of course.

"No Ginny," said Hermione for what felt like the hundredth time ever since they entered the shop. "I want something a simpler design than that. I don't want anything that's too overdone." Hermione waved a hand at all the trimmings on the cake and wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Not to mention the fact that it would be a nightmare trying to move this one anywhere, even with the use of magic."

"But it's so romantic!" gushed Ginny. "I love all the roses and the bells and the doves and…." Hermione's fingers involuntarily twitched as she was tempted to kill the younger witch who was once again ignoring her complaints. Yes Ginny was currently useful because she knew where the best shops were at, but surely they made maps for that sort of thing too.

"Everything is going to be all right, Hermione," said Katie, patting her on the back comfortingly. She cast a glance over at their other companion. "Eventually she'll run out of steam, and we'll be able to get some real work done."

"Remind me again why I invited her along?"

"Because you forgot how young she is," replied Katie with a smile. "I'm half surprised that you're not busy concocting a plan to get Harry to propose to her so she can stop bothering you about your wedding plans."

"I wouldn't go that far," said Hermione. That thought hadn't even crossed her mind. Hermione wasn't certain that she wanted Harry to marry Ginny but unfortunately he seemed very attached to the witch. Even though it would distract Ginny if Harry were to propose, Hermione didn't think it was worth it. She could deal with her friend's annoying girlfriend if that bought him the time necessary to outgrow his childhood sweetheart. She didn't hold out much hope for that to occur, but Harry had been known to surprise her on occasion.

"No I suppose you wouldn't. But her excitement is all your fault, you know. She's really taken with the idea of two enemies finding love with one another and all that," said Katie.

"It's amazing how many people take that view, though most not as enthusiastically as our friend here," said Hermione. She turned her attention back to Ginny. "Ginny dear, it is a lovely cake but not for me. Maybe something with just a few flowers would be all right but…"

"Oh that's a brilliant idea!" Ginny pounced upon Hermione's words. "Why don't we choose the flowers first then? Maybe we can get an idea there. We'll have to choose carefully though because flowers have meaning. Did you know that?"

"I did actually," replied Hermione. She was now more annoyed than ever at the younger witch as that was common knowledge to anyone who read as much as her.

"Of course. Silly me," replied Ginny. "Forgot who I was talking to there."

"Actually," said Katie, "that might be a good idea. Rather than having any sort of fancy theme like romance or passion, maybe you should just pick a flower and coordinate everything around that."

Hermione considered that suggestion. "It's a bit simple perhaps, but I find myself liking it because of that."

"Of course," agreed Katie. "Simple is good because you don't have much time. Your ideas on what you can do for a romantic fairy-tale theme are pure genius, Ginny, but I don't think Hermione here has enough time to properly carry out something like that."

"Oh. I hadn't thought of that." Ginny looked somewhat remorseful.

"Don't worry about it," said Hermione. She didn't want to have to waste any time making the younger witch feel better. "Do you know any nearby florists? So we can look at flowers and maybe work from there."

"Does Ron always eat with his mouth open?" Ginny replied with a grin. "Of course I do. Let's go." The three of them left the cake shop. It only took a few minutes for them to walk over to the flower shop that Ginny knew. It was tucked away in a back alley and from the outside it looked like nothing much. However once they were inside, they were surrounded by thousands of flowers and Hermione found herself marveling over the different varieties housed inside.

"Here we are," Ginny said. "It's amazing, isn't it? I stumbled across it one day when I was looking for a place to rent for my own. It's not well-known so I'm sure they'll be able to take your order at such short notice." She giggled excitedly. "Small shops like us have to get whatever free advertising we can. Let's see if they have a book here about what each flower means. After all, we don't want to unintentionally send out the wrong message. Who knows what people would say?" She giggled again before bouncing off to bother the shop attendant. Hermione and Katie trailed behind her while continuing their quiet conversation.

"Nice show of restraint there," Katie complimented Hermione softly.

"Thanks."

"She really is getting to you today, isn't she?" Katie examined Hermione critically. "But that's not it, is it? I hate to say it, but you're looking very run down these days. It looks like it's beginning to affect your temper," she added tactfully.

Hermione sighed. She must be feeling the strains of trying to manage everything if it was showing. "I know. I am sure everything will get better though once this wedding is over and done with."

Katie coughed. "I never took you for the blindly optimistic sort."

"Oh?"

"I mean, I personally expect that things will get worse once you're officially married to Malfoy," Katie explained.

Hermione tilted her head, considering what her friend said. "Maybe. I don't think so though. Planning a wedding…I knew it was going to be a lot of work, but it's even more than I expected. I really should have held out for a smaller wedding rather than giving into Malfoy's mum's wish for a large and spectacular one."

"As much as I hate to say it I have to agree with Mrs. Malfoy in this instance. You don't want it to look as though they're ashamed of you," said Katie.

"But it would be so much less work," Hermione all but wailed. She paused. "Dear Merlin. Did that sound as bad as I think it did?" Katie only nodded her head in response. "Blast it. I suppose I need to stop being so picky and just settle for whatever I can get." That wasn't what Hermione really wanted to do but she didn't see any other way out. She didn't have the time to properly plan it the way she wanted as she needed that time for all the other commitments she had made. She sighed. It was rather depressing how incomplete her wedding plans still were. She had been overly optimistic when she had thought she would be able to quickly plan it even though she had so much else going on.

"There are other ways you know," Katie said succinctly. Before Hermione could ask her friend what she meant by that, Ginny came bounding back over to them, cradling a book in her arms.

"They do have one! Isn't that grand?" she said as she stopped in front of them. "So what do you think of roses? Red ones of course and—" Hermione wrinkled her nose, a look of displeasure covering her face at the younger girl's ideas.

"For passionate love?" asked Katie. "I think that might be pushing it. Maybe something more understated?" she suggested.

"Yes I think that would be a good idea," said Hermione. She was grateful to her older friend. If Katie wasn't here, Hermione was afraid that she would have already lost her temper and insulted Ginny. She didn't really want to do that. That would mean a long talk with Harry and eventually having to apologize to the silly cow. That was never a very appealing option, and so Hermione wanted to avoid it if at all possible. "Maybe some orchids? I've always liked them." The other two witches stopped to consider the idea.

Finally Katie said, "I think that might work. There are lots of types of orchids, and if I remember correctly they're supposed to symbolize luxury."

"Which seems oddly appropriate?" Hermione cocked an eyebrow at her friend. "You could have just gone ahead and said that."

Katie shrugged. "Why bother when I knew you were going to get the point anyway? Waste of breath, really."

Ginny looked at both of them. "Sometimes I feel like I'm superfluous to your conversations."

Hermione just barely refrained from snorting.

"Don't be ridiculous, Ginny," said Katie. "And do tell me—was I right?"

"About the meaning of orchids? Yes and no. They have come to mean that, but they also stand for love and fertility." Hermione coughed at those words, and her friends turned their attention to her.

"What? Forgot to think that far ahead?" asked Katie shrewdly.

"No it's not that." Hermione had thought that far ahead, and she knew she would be expected to have children. That was fine by her; she always did want to be a mother eventually. The only problem was that she didn't know if it would be wise to wait as she knew of her parents' problems in having children and she assumed that Draco's parents experienced much of the same thing. Hermione shook her head to clear it of those thoughts. She didn't need to come to a decision about that right away. She had a wedding to plan first.

Meanwhile the other two witches had exchanged a knowing look. "Well you should think on it while you can still do something about it," said Katie.

"It's not too late to change your mind, you know. I always thought you were the sort who wanted to have a career rather than children," added Ginny hopefully.

Hermione frowned. Again Ginny proved how little she knew Hermione; she was never the sort of witch to easily change her mind or to make hasty decisions. "My mind is set," she told them. "Now come on. Let's get back to the flowers."

"Nice way to change the subject there," Katie said.

"Rather obvious though, don't you think?" Ginny asked.

"Whatever gets the job done," Katie replied. "Come on now. Let's get down to business. There isn't much time to plan this wedding as it is." The three of them spent much of the next two hours debating the merits of different flowers. Given the season many of Hermione's favorites would have to be imported. Katie and Ginny's choices were no less expensive. Fortunately they all seemed to go together so Hermione decided that it would best to include them all, especially as both witches were going to be in the wedding party.

"Are you certain you can afford all of this?" asked Ginny suddenly. "This is getting rather expensive as virtually everything will have to be imported."

"Don't worry about that," said Hermione.

"Still," said Katie, "we're your friends and as friends it's our duty to point out that you don't have to include all of our favorites, especially not when it costs so much. I don't want to hear about you starving yourself to death in an attempt to pay for all of this."

"But your choices mesh so well with mine, so why not? Besides it's not as though I'm paying," Hermione said. Then a brilliant idea occurred to her. One of her biggest problems was the lack of time. There was simply too much for one single person to use. Unfortunately she didn't have many other resources available to her; certainly there wasn't anyone else she trusted to be privy to all her plans. However there was another way of dealing with problems and that was by throwing money at it.

Hermione reflected that it would be very useful to throw money at the problem of who was behind that website. It would take her weeks to get caught up to Muggle technology enough to do something about it. Her own funds were insufficient but she did have access to one of Malfoy's vaults. She had chosen him after all because his fortune would be needed for her to accomplish her ultimate goal. She might as well start using it now for her purposes if possible.

That would work and very well. Hermione vowed to try it out and see if there were any limits to her access of that vault. If there were none, then she thought she would avail herself of the funds to assist in her detective work. She made a mental note to try transferring some funds into her own account on Monday.

"So is there anything else?" she asked. "Or should I go ahead and pay?"

"Are you certain that you want to keep everything?" asked Ginny.

"Yes I am," said Hermione, a bit annoyed that Ginny kept asking her that same question.

"Go ahead," said Katie. "You don't need us watching you pay. There's something I want to talk to Ginny about anyway."

Hermione was curious about her friend's intentions. She would ask Katie about her conversation with Ginny later, if Katie didn't take the initiative and volunteer the information. She proceeded to go up to the sales clerk to get the final amount. She asked the clerk for the total amount and how much of a deposit would be needed. The final figure made her wince, and it made her glad that Malfoy had agreed to pay for everything. She didn't think she could have done so by herself. She quickly wrote out the cheque while asking the clerk a few questions about delivery and the like.

Once that was done, Hermione went back to her friends. "All right then. Let's go," she told them.

Ginny looked at her. "Is it all right if I skive off?" she asked. "I do so want to get started on those sketches."

Hermione looked askance at her. She didn't know what the other witch was talking about but she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. She didn't really want to spend the rest of the day with the ginger-haired witch. "That's fine," said Hermione.

"Thanks," said Ginny. "I should have something to show the both of you shortly. By next weekend at the very latest."

"What was all that about?" asked Hermione once Ginny was out of earshot.

"That was me taking care of some of your problems. You can thank me for it later. Come on. Let's not hang around here all day. A bite to eat would do us both a world of good," replied Katie.

"Don't think that I haven't noticed that you still haven't explained yourself," said Hermione. "But lunch does seem to have been ages ago. Something to eat would be good."

"I thought you might agree. It's because we had to follow Ginny around." Katie rolled her eyes. "I swear that girl has boundless energy when it comes to shopping. Let's get going. A favorite place of mine isn't all that far from here." Katie set off with Hermione following after her. Along the way, Katie informed Hermione what she had said to Ginny.

"Basically," said Katie, "I told Ginny that while you were considering utilizing her services for your wedding, you weren't too sure about the designs. Not that Ginny hasn't received very good reviews as of late, but you were worried that her ideas might be too fancy while you're aiming for something more elegant and restrained."

"That's true enough," said Hermione. "She actually listened to you though? How did you manage that? Because I know I've been trying to communicate that to her the entire time we were together."

"Patience," said Katie. "I repeated myself over and over again until she finally took the hint. It did help that you mentioned it countless times earlier though. You shouldn't have given up so soon, I think. But then I suppose that has to do with how you've been looking under the weather this last week."

Hermione sighed. "I suppose I am. But there isn't much I can do about that," she said.

"You could learn how to delegate," Katie reprimanded her. "Honestly Hermione. That's your worst fault. You have to be in control of all the details, otherwise you freak out."

"But I do delegate," said Hermione, thinking of how she had asked Harry and Ron for help in watching the Muggles.

"Not enough. Have you considered hiring a wedding planner?"

"Yes," Hermione replied. She had taken Narcissa's suggestion seriously, although she didn't consider the witches that the blonde witch had mentioned. She felt she couldn't trust anyone who had Narcissa's recommendation as that would probably be in invitation to disaster, or public humiliation at the very least. Hermione had spent some effort into researching wedding planners, but those who were capable of taking on such a grand event all looked down upon Muggle-borns. Hermione would rather do all the work herself rather than give any business to people like that.

"Let me guess. Couldn't find any that suited you?"

"You know me too well."

"I thought as much," said Katie. "I looked into that back when—well back when I was thinking I might get married." An awkward silence fell over the two witches as they were both lost in thought. Hermione wondered if Katie sometimes blamed her for the fact that she wasn't able to marry Flint. She would have been well within her rights to do so because if not for Hermione's intervention, Katie probably would have been happily married by now. The silence was finally broken by Katie speaking once more.

"In any case, all of them are rather worthless. They didn't think much of a Muggle-born asking after their services. I figured it would be much the same for you." Hermione snorted but nodded her head in agreement. That was true. They might be more than willing to accept the assignment, given Hermione's fame from the war and the healthy regard society always held for the Malfoy fortune, but Hermione knew they would be belittling her behind her back.

"Too true that," Hermione said. "That's why I'm doing everything myself. It's either that or let someone who will do her best to embarrass me in subtle ways take charge."

"That's not the only options you have," Katie said with a shake of her head. "But it's like you. I mean you never have liked imposing on people. That's why I've decided to appoint myself your wedding planner."

"Excuse me? You did what?"

"You heard me. I'm volunteering to be your wedding planner. Merlin knows you need one. Don't look at me like that Hermione. You need the help, and I would be a poor friend if I didn't step into do so. Especially given everything I know," said Katie, making a veiled reference to the reason Hermione had given the older witch for her acceptance of Malfoy's proposal. Katie stopped and turned around to take Hermione's hands in hers.

"Trust me," she said. "I'll do a good job. Leave it to me to do all the ground work in scouting out the best of everything. I already have several places in mind because I've looked into that before. I'll call you in to make the final decision once I've whittled the choices down." She laughed cheerfully. "I do know how much of a control freak you are but so long as you get final approval, it should be all right. Our tastes do more or less coincide, you know. Besides you have your work and everything. I don't. This will give me something to fill up my time. My days have been long and dull ever since I had to give up Quidditch."

"I don't know what to say. Not that I don't appreciate it but you're taking on so much," said Hermione. She was struck by how much Katie did care for her. Sometimes she forgot how much her friends worried about her and how they all wanted the best for her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Letting Katie find the best vendors available would take a huge load off of her back. It would give her so much time to work everything else.

"Come on, Hermione. You know you could use the help," Katie said, interrupting her thoughts. "Think of it this way if it helps. It's long been a bridesmaid's sacred duty to ensure the sanity of the bride on her wedding day. This is my way of doing that. Merlin knows you'll lose it if you don't get some sort of help."

"All right," said Hermione. Katie was right. She did need the help and it was best that she turned to her friends for that help. She opened her eyes to look at her friend. "I do need the help, and you're right. You do know what I like and dislike so you're the perfect choice. Much better than my future mother-in-law, that much is certain."

"Or your best friend's girlfriend," Katie added.

"Words are inadequate to express how much better you are than her," said Hermione fervently. "But you must let me pay you—"

"That's not necessary, Hermione. I'm doing this as a friend."

"I know," she replied. "But your money from Quidditch won't last forever especially since you've taken your pension early. I wouldn't feel right if I didn't give you some recompense. And as I said before I'm not the one footing the bill so don't worry about its effect on me."

Katie lifted an eyebrow. "And Malfoy won't complain about you hiring someone when his mother is waiting in the wings?"

"I hadn't thought of that." Hermione frowned. That was more evidence of the strain she was under; usually she considered all possible scenarios before making a decision. "His mother actually mentioned a few names, but I can't trust any of them. Perhaps I can say that you're willing to work with his mother? That would make it a lot more palatable to them as I've basically told her to leave me alone," she said slowly.

"Meaning that I am also responsible for getting Mrs. Malfoy's input?" asked Katie. "That works, actually. That way I don't feel so bad about taking Malfoy's money from you." The two witches laughed as they continued to make their way down the street.

* * *

When Hermione returned home that evening, she was looking forward to a long soak after which she would finish reading all the books she had bought this morning. She had eaten more than she should have at the café, her hunger fueled by the relief she felt about having some help with one of the major tasks she currently had before her. It was amazing how much that reinvigorated her. Hermione knew that she had been dragging the last week or so as everything snowballed around her. Now that Katie would be doing most of the work of planning the wedding for her she felt like a new woman.

Unfortunately her plans for a bath were forestalled when she saw what was waiting for her. Upon opening her door, she immediately noticed a large owl patiently waiting for her by the kitchen window. She sighed and went towards it, quickly untying the note attached to its leg. She offered it a small treat, which it took very gently belying its large size, as she read the letter. Hermione let out a groan after she digested the contents of the letter.

On one hand, it would be very interesting to meet another Muggle-born witch who was in the same position as her, particularly because said witch was marrying one of Malfoy's closest friends. Hermione's instincts told her that she would be seeing a lot of both Nott and his new bride in the months to come. However she had just managed to clear up her schedule a bit and now there was something else to take its place.

She shook her head wearily. She had known what she was getting herself into back when she had decided that she would mold the Wizarding World into a better place. She had made that decision knowing full well how much work it would take to overrule old prejudices that had been writ into law. Hermione just wished that she had timed things a bit better so she wouldn't have so much to do at once. However she supposed it wasn't as though she could have asked the anti-Muggle-born faction to please wait until after her wedding to stir things up. In addition to that, Hermione wanted to secure Malfoy as her husband before he wound up proposing to someone else. She would simply have to bear with her situation for now and learn how to schedule things better in the future.

Hermione gave a few more treats to the owl and asked that it wait while she composed her response. She walked over to her desk. Opening a drawer, she took out a fresh sheet of parchment. On it she wrote that she would be happy to meet with Draco's friend and his fiancée sometime this week. She also suggested that the meeting be some time on Tuesday or Wednesday, especially since the happy couple was supposed to be getting married this weekend. After a quick check on her response to make sure that she hadn't made any mistakes or left anything out, she signed her name. She then got up to attach it to the owl. That task done, she made her way to the bathroom, fully intent on having that long soak she had been dreaming of. Hermione knew that she better find time to relax while she still could for it was going to be one hell of a busy week.

* * *

**Author's note:** Thanks for reading. Please review. That would make my day.

My thanks goes out to inadaze22, celticscorpion, RememberMe2, dynonugget, sugar n spice 522, shat, kazfeist, misssweetsweet, Ookami Otome, RannayBabiiex3, allycat1186, medusaasaphoenix, and Chaneteur d'ombre for reviewing the last chapter. :D It is very much appreciated.


	12. Dominoes

**Ambition's End: Dominoes  
**

**Disclaimer:** None of these characters are mine as they all belong to JKR.

* * *

Hermione glanced over at the wizard at her side as the two of them walked to Hogwarts. Thanks to Katie's intervention in the whole wedding planning fiasco, she was able to accompany Gaspar on his interview at Hogwarts. Hermione knew that the old Auror didn't need her help when it came to meeting with Minerva and the rest of the Hogwarts staff for the first time. However she was eager to see this position filled especially as it had taken her longer than she had thought to finally present a candidate to Minerva. She wanted to know right away what the result was and so she insisted on going with him. The excuse she gave to all involved was that she wanted to immediately get in contact with Kingsley Shacklebolt to negotiate Gaspar's transfer to teaching if everything went well. That was accepted by all at face value because it was true.

The two of them Apparated to the nearby village of Hogsmeade and then proceeded to walk to Hogwarts. Already the day was rather warm. Hermione cast cooling charms over each of them so they wouldn't be covered in sweat when they arrived. The thought occurred to her that the charm might not make a difference for her companion, but when she looked at him, he appeared to be calm and collected.

"You're not nervous?" she asked.

"No I'm not," he replied with a shrug of his shoulders. "When you get to be as old as me, either little rattles you or you're forever jumping at your own shadow."

"And if you were the latter, you wouldn't have remained an Auror for this long," Hermione noted.

"Exactly," Gaspar agreed pleasantly. "Don't get the wrong impression. I do want the position, and not just because I want to retire from the Ministry. I wouldn't bother wasting anyone's time if that was just it. But I found that I've enjoyed the times I've been in charge of training younger Aurors and so—" He shrugged his shoulders once more.

"You were one of Harry's trainers, weren't you?" she asked. Her friend had mentioned that back when he had suggested Gaspar for the job.

"That's right. Not that I had to train him all that much as he's a natural. But I hope that experience will help me get the position. My granddaughter's set to start in a few years here and so I…."

"Ah," said Hermione. That really did explain a lot. "And what will you do if your teaching encourages her to become an Auror?" she asked.

"Be mighty proud of her, that's what. We need more witches in our department. Hell, we simply need more Aurors. That's always been the case but it's never been more true. If she has the talent and the skill and the desire to become one…that would be grand." He grinned to himself. "Of course it's easy for me to say that. I'm not all that concerned about her talent for the subject." He continued in this vein during the rest of the trip to Hogwarts, and Hermione was ever so grateful to see the familiar grounds of the school. The current Transfiguration professor, Melchior Landale, met them in front of the castle.

"Melchior!" cried Hermione in greeting. "It is so good to see you again. I'm sorry that I haven't been able to reply to your owls."

"Don't worry about that, Hermione," the old wizard replied. "I am very much aware of just how busy a young witch you are." He turned his gaze to the wizard standing next to Hermione, and she was reminded of her manners.

"Oh! I'm sorry. This is—"

"Oh I know the fool who has accompanied you here," Melchior interrupted her with a smile. "I must say you do look good for your ripe old age, Gaspar."

"He says this yet he knows perfectly well that he's only a month younger than me," Gaspar replied with a sigh. He noticed Hermione's confusion. "We were in the same year at Hogwarts. I must say that I'm not surprised that he's teaching Transfiguration here. Every so often it seems that Gryffindor produces a witch or a wizard whose understanding of the subject cannot be matched. Needless to say the Ravenclaws of our day were miffed about that, weren't they, Mel?"

Melchior snorted. "As we Gryffindors were miffed that a mere Hufflepuff like you outdid everyone when it came to Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"There's no such thing as a _mere _Hufflepuff," Gaspar replied.

"True, true. I would rather have one of you watching my back rather than anyone else. Your lot is known for being loyal and rightly so," Melchior said. "Now shall we go? I've been instructed to show you to the headmistress' office." Hermione raised an eyebrow at those words. She had been wondering why Minerva herself wasn't here to greet them and she resolved to ask Melchior later. The three of them made their way through Hogwarts with the two old wizards talking about their student days. Hermione only listened with half an ear, the rest of her mind preoccupied with what could have happened with her old professor. She hoped it was nothing serious particularly because the school year was about to start.

"Here we are," announced Melchior as they stopped in front of the gargoyle statute. "Amarant," he said and the statute moved to the side to reveal the staircase. "Good luck," he said to Gaspar as he inclined his head at the stairs, indicating that the Auror was to proceed alone.

"Thanks," the Auror replied, "though I should hope I won't need it." He forward and up the stairs, the gargoyle sliding shut behind him.

"I hope everything will go all right," Hermione said once the old Auror was out of sight.

"I am certain it will," Melchior reassured her. "After you gave Minerva your candidate's name, she immediately researched him. I told her that I thought he would be an excellent choice for the position." He then coughed. "If I may be blunt, you might as well go ahead and work on getting him released from the Aurors. The interview is more of a formality—mainly to make sure he would be a good fit for the school. However given how dismal the last few instructors have been…I really can't see Minerva turning Gaspar away. Not to mention the fact that there's simply not enough time to find someone else."

"I know," said Hermione quietly. "It wasn't on purpose, I assure you."

"Don't worry. No one thinks that you were procrastinating or anything like that. It is hard to find someone who is willing to take the job on especially with rumors still swirling about how the position is cursed." Melchior smiled. "As I said before I am well aware of how busy you are. I merely mentioned that this interview is more or less a formality so you don't have to waste time waiting here."

"Oh, it's no waste. And besides, I'd rather wait here to make sure before I go and harass the Minister to see me some time this week."

"In that case, shall we go to my office?" asked the old wizard. "I would like to get your opinion on an article I'm writing on my research this summer if I may."

"Of course," said Hermione. "I'd be happy to look at it. Transfiguration was one of my favorite subjects." She followed him to his office, and the two of them conversed about his research while they waited for the interview going on in the Headmaster's office to end.

* * *

As soon as he received Granger's response, Draco made plans to not go into the office Monday morning. Ostensibly he would be arranging the details of their evening out with Theo and his fiancée. In reality he had already decided on what they would be doing—seeing a play instead of going out to eat yet again—and he really wanted the time off so he could look at a few possibilities he had uncovered for his new home. There was barely two months until the wedding, and he knew that it might very well take all that time simply to find a place that would do. He had started looking into what homes were available a couple weeks ago and he had a short list of a few that he wanted to see. While his research on those houses was promising, he knew that he had to visit the homes he had discovered to see if they would do.

However Draco decided his first matter of business Monday morning was to take care of getting everything together for Wednesday evening. After all it wasn't as though he had all that much time to finish that either especially because he had got off to a later start that he had intended, having woken up late. Draco hurried over to the theatre upon arriving at Diagon Alley for he wanted to get the best remaining seats that were still available.

Thankfully the Wizarding play he wanted to see was at his parents' favorite theatre. They had only stopped going because of their reputation being sullied in society. It was never comfortable going out when no one bothered to make you feel welcome. His father had even been spat upon on several occasions. To his surprise, the theatre manager evidently still had felt some loyalty to his family and so he had let the box go empty instead of selling it to someone else. That was pure luck, seeing how the play was virtually sold out, and so Draco was quick to snatch it up for the rest of the year. He knew that his mother had taken it hard when they had decided to stop going out to see operas and plays. She would be happy to hear that their old box was now theirs once more.

Happy with the way things had gone, he decided to take a short break by stopping at a nearby café for lunch as it was already past noon. While waiting for his order to arrive, he composed short letters to both Hermione and Theo to inform them of the final plans for Wednesday evening. His food arrived shortly after he sent off the owls. He ate while reviewing the notes he had taken on the four properties he wanted to look at. All of them were in or around Wizarding London. Draco knew that would be more convenient for him as the bulk of his business was done there, and he imagined that it would also suit Granger to be close to the Ministry. While living further away was a definite possibility, seeing how they were both capable of Apparating from longer distances, he would rather look for somewhere that would provide a shorter commute first. While Apparation was convenient, the greater distances one had to traverse using Apparation, the more tired one became.

Two of the properties he wanted to look at where in Diagon Alley proper itself. Draco frowned as he thought about living in that busy thoroughfare. Silencing charms would be a necessity, as well as privacy charms. Living so close to the headquarters of the Daily Prophet would practically be an invitation for them to spy at all hours of the day. He sighed. Perhaps a longer commute wouldn't be better than the alternative after all. He put those two listings to the side, resolving to check them out last.

A shadow fell across his table. "Looking for a place to run to?" asked Flint as he helped himself to a seat.

"We have got to stop meeting like this," Draco said, instantly cautious. He hadn't seen or heard from Flint ever since they had that confrontation in the restaurant. He wasn't sure what to expect from the other wizard, but he doubted that it would be good.

Flint chuckled. "Good one. You were always quick with words, weren't you? Too bad I can't say the same when it comes to Quidditch or anything else for that matter."

Draco shrugged his shoulders. He wasn't going to take that bait. "But no, to answer your question, I am not looking for a place to run. I have no reason to," he said.

"That's what you think," Flint responded darkly. "That witch of yours is something else. Take my word for it. I wouldn't trust her one bit." Draco was going to ask Flint what was the reason for his vendetta against Hermione when an owl arrived. He opened and read it. His friend had written back to say that he and his fiancée would prefer to meet Draco and Hermione at the theatre on Wednesday evening instead of all of them going out to dinner first. Theo also wrote that the both of them were incredibly busy, but were still looking forward to meeting the other couple at the play. Draco smiled as he finished reading the letter and folded it up. The smile on his face faded as he noticed Flint eyeing both him and the letter still in his hands.

"But you won't listen to me, will you?" Flint's face was a mask of anger, and he shook from the force of it. "That bitch is something else. I wonder what she did to you. Well, don't say that I didn't warn you. If I were you, I would run far, far away from her." With that he got up and left, not sparing a backwards glance for Draco.

_That was troubling_, Draco thought to himself. _Flint seems more unhinged than usual. Perhaps a word to Zabini or Potter would be in order._ After he made certain that Flint was no where to be seen, he returned to looking at the listings for the remaining two properties. This time though he took more care to conceal what he was examining from passers-by.

* * *

Katie sighed softly as she examined the small disaster that was Hermione's wedding plans. It had taken her most of the morning to arrange all of Hermione's notes on her wedding. She shook her head as she thought about what a mess the plans were. It was very much unlike Hermione to be so disorganized. She could hardly believe that the only two things that were settled were the location and what flowers would be there.

At least her friend had taken the time to get the best location possible to stage the wedding at. Solaris was one of the most exclusive resorts in Britain, and one of the few that had the ability to house Muggle guests. This was especially important as Hermione's family was larger than she had thought. While the younger witch was an only child, evidently she had many cousins on her father's side. All in all her guest list included thirty Muggles. That seemed like a small number, but it loomed large when one realized that the magical nature of the ceremony, the surroundings, and the other guests would have to be shielded from the entire lot. Just thinking about the task gave Katie a headache. Hermione had also arranged for Solaris to cater the event. In Katie's opinion, having food and lots of it was of the utmost importance as she once attended an overly-long wedding where there was only cake for the guests to eat. Her friend had done very well when it came to choosing the location for the wedding. That in itself was almost enough for Katie to forgive Hermione for being unorganized if it weren't for one thing.

Hermione still had not sent out any invitations.

That was simply incomprehensible. The invitations should have gone out as soon as Hermione had secured her location. Katie had seen a large stack of them were in one corner of her friend's living room when she had been there on Saturday. The only explanation Katie found in reference as to why they still have not been sent out was a note scribbled on top of a scroll of parchment. It indicated that Hermione wanted to wring her future mother-in-law's pretty little neck for trying to invite too many people. Katie shook her head as she remembered reading that note. Obviously her friend had communication issues with her future mother-in-law. She thought that Hermione could have headed that off better simply by including Mrs. Malfoy in the wedding planning more. It was only natural that the blonde witch would want to have some input into the wedding of her only child. It was also only logical that she would want the wedding to be as large and as grand as possible, given her background and reputation as one of the best hostesses in Wizarding society.

Katie took out a fresh scrap of parchment. She was going to have to start at the very beginning and make a list of all the things that needed to be done. The first thing she was going to do was to write to Mrs. Malfoy to see if she could finalize her guest list. The next thing on her list was deciding which clothing designer to use for the wedding. Earlier when she decided she needed a break from organizing Hermione's notes, Katie had sent off owls asking a few other designers aside from Ginny to put together some sketches for how they would dress the wedding party. She had received responses back from every one, and she should have preliminaries by Friday at the latest. Katie scribbled down a note to ask for a meeting between her, Hermione, and Mrs. Malfoy this weekend in order to finally select a designer.

After that there was the matter of the registry. That was another thing she was going to have to talk to Hermione about. The Malfoys were obscenely rich, and so it wasn't as though Hermione and Draco needed any presents. Hermione would probably prefer to have guests make out cheques to a favorite charity of hers, although she wasn't sure what Mrs. Malfoy would prefer. Katie frowned to herself. She was assuming that Draco would leave his side of the details to his mother—certainly that had been Marcus' plan back when they were still together—but she knew better than to make such an assumption. She sighed and decided to remind Hermione to let her fiancé know about the new arrangement. He could easily be included in the meeting if it turned out that he did want to have more input in to the wedding.

The other two things Katie wanted to get settled straight away were the security and the decorations for the wedding. She added those to the list. She planned to have several color schemes available for her meeting with everyone, based on what would match with the flowers that would be there. For security, she would look at outside firms and maybe ask Harry or Ron what they thought would be best. Hopefully whatever guards that were hired wouldn't have much to do, but she wanted them to be there just in case.

She decided to stop with those items. That was plenty of work to keep her busy for the rest of the week. Katie knew all too well that there were many other things that needed to get done—the cake, the entertainment!—but that could be handled later. Besides she thought it would be a good idea to ask Hermione and Mrs. Malfoy if they had any preferences for the entertainment and the like. In particular, she knew that Narcissa Malfoy's contacts were extensive and she was not above using them. That should also have the effect of making the older witch happier, which in turn might lead to a better start for Hermione in her marriage. Katie thought that was worth the risk. She hoped her friend would see it that same way.

Katie pulled out another piece of parchment. After a second thought, she took out one more. Her first instinct was to write to Mrs. Malfoy about the meeting, while going over to talk to Hermione. Yet while though she would keep Hermione's best interests at heart and try to give her friend the perfect wedding, she still wanted to treat both her friend and Mrs. Malfoy the same. That meant writing letters to both of them, instead of dropping by Hermione's flat this evening to talk. That was probably for the best, as she knew that Hermione had been dreadfully busy lately. Only that could account for how there were still so many things to do for the wedding. Katie wished that her friend would confide in her more, about what was taking up all of her free time. It had to be something serious as she had noticed that her friend had been looking rather run down for the last couple of weeks.

Katie composed a letter first to the blonde witch and then another to her friend. She sealed each of them within an envelope and neatly printed their names on their respective letters. That done she stood up and placed her cup in the sink. It was time to get going as it was already past noon. She had to drop by the post to mail the letters, seeing how she had no owl of her own, and then she planned to stop by George's shop to see if Ron was around. If he was, she would pick his brain for what security firms were best. If not, then she would go to Solaris and ask to see the rooms that the ceremony and reception would be held in so she could start thinking about decorating options.

The owl post was relatively empty for a Monday. There were only two people in queue when she arrived. She took her place and waited for her turn. It didn't take long. She walked up to hand over the letters to the clerk when a rough hand intercepted her.

"Rejecting another poor sod?" asked an all too familiar bitter voice.

"No," she said. "Not that it's any of your business what I do." She tried to pull free of him but found that she couldn't. He pushed her to the side and to her surprise walked up to the clerk instead of her.

"Hey! I was here first!" she said furiously. She fumed silently, berating herself for not noticing that he had been behind her.

"Considering all that you've done to me, love, letting me go first is the least that you owe me," he said. His back was turned to her so she couldn't see his face. The clerk glanced over at her before turning to help Marcus with his large stack of letters, evidently deciding not to get in the middle of this.

_Wise man, that one_, she thought. _I wouldn't want to get between us either._ She could feel her heart start to beat faster as she became anxious, as she usually did in his presence ever since she rejected him. She wished she didn't have to do that. She wished that there had been another way. She swayed from side to side, accidentally catching sight of the names outside the envelopes that Marcus was mailing._Higgs, Hyral…what is this? A mass mailing to all his old mates who hates us Muggle-borns?_ she wondered idly. She sighed audibly.

"Is that a sigh I hear escaping your lips, my sweet?" he asked, still not turning around to look at her. "Regretting that you ever told me no?"

She huffed and looked away. "You wish."

"Oh right now, I think it's you who is doing the wishing." His business complete, he finally faced her. "A bit hard having to live on your pension, now isn't it? I bet you wish you had thought of that first before you decided to listen to that friend of yours and play me for a fool."

Katie glared at her old flame as her anger at him overtook her nervousness. "Hermione had nothing to do with it. And that's exactly why I told you no. I'm not something that you can just buy."

Suddenly the look on his face softened. "I never thought that," he said quietly.

"If that's the case why didn't you ever ask me before that law was passed?" she retorted. "You could have done that. There were several months between my accident and that law passing. But no! Why do that? Not when you could string me along until it was time to settle down with a nice pure-blood girl. You never cared for me." Even as she said those words, she found herself unable to believe them. Marcus had cared for her. She knew that for a fact, even now. But lying to herself and everyone else made it easier for her to deal with him and with the memories of everything that she had lost when she had turned him down. Katie wished that it didn't have to be so, that she didn't have to set an example, but unfortunately her wishes never seemed to come true. She just wasn't that lucky.

His mouth twisted up in an ugly snarl. "You're not the girl I fell in love with. That girl knew how much she meant to me. I don't know what that fucking—"

"For the last time, Hermione has nothing to do with why I told you no. You only have yourself to blame." Katie frantically thought of things to say that could make him just go away. She hated to make a scene but that was unavoidable whenever their paths crossed. "Maybe if you were a real_man_, I wouldn't have said no," she shot at him, hating herself for aiming at a weak spot of his.

He didn't say anything in response to that. He simply glared at her one last time before leaving. Katie let out the breath she had been holding once he left the owl post and she finally walked up to the clerk to mail her letters. Her heart was still pounding with everything she felt upon seeing him. She furiously rubbed at her eyes. _It's not fair_, she thought. _After all this time, he can still affect me so, in a way no one else can. I _need_ to get over him, the way he has got over me._

She left the owl post, her mind still unsettled from her close encounter with Marcus. A part of Katie longed to return home so she could have herself a good cry over what might have been. But she had indulged that side of her far too often. She would never be able to move on if she let him ruin the rest of her plans for the day. She took another deep breath and headed over to George's shop, determined to do everything that she had planned to do earlier.

* * *

There was a skip in her step as Hermione made her way back to her office that afternoon. Gaspar's interview had gone astoundingly well. Minerva had stated effusively that she would be happy to accept him for the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Now all Hermione needed to do was to arrange that with the Minister.

Immediately upon returning to the Ministry, Hermione had gone to the Minister of Magic's office. As usual he wasn't available, but thanks to her reputation, she had managed to secure an appointment with him late Thursday morning. That was cutting it a bit close as the school year would start in a couple weeks, but she felt confident in her ability to convince Kingsley to let the old Auror go. It was true that the Aurors were stretched very thin, but the only way to counteract that was to gain new recruits. Hermione wouldn't be surprised to find out that Kingsley had already been concerned with the state of instruction at Hogwarts and therefore open to suggestions on what to do to improve it. She was very happy to have one item on her to-do list on the verge of being crossed off.

That wasn't the only piece of good news that Hermione had for today. She had also learned that Malfoy had set no limits on her access to that one vault of his. Earlier today she had transferred a rather hefty amount to her own account at Gringotts with no problems at all. She planned to later transfer that to her account at a Muggle bank so she could use those funds against whoever was behind that anti-Hogwarts website. She had continued learning more about the new Muggle technology and had come to the conclusion that the easiest to find out who was behind the website was to simply buy out its internet service provider. That would have been an impossible short cut for her to take if it weren't for Draco's money.

She took several deep breaths as she entered her office, trying to calm down. She still had almost half the day left, and so she wanted to get more research done. It was hard to concentrate though because she was so happy how everything finally seemed to be going her way. She whistled to herself as she brought out her latest research notes and then stopped suddenly. There was a pair of letters on her desk that hadn't been there when she left this morning to accompany Gaspar to his Hogwarts interview. Gingerly she opened the first one, hoping it wasn't going to announce some new scheme by her boss to make her life miserable.

Thankfully it was only from Draco. He had sent the note to let her know that they would be seeing a Wizarding play on Wednesday evening with one of his old friends and said friend's fiancée. She frowned, wondering why he just didn't mention it when they had seen one another in Diagon Alley. She soon pushed that thought aside. Maybe he had sent the note before she had met up with him. Or just as likely, maybe he didn't want to mention it in public. It didn't really matter what his reasons were.

Hermione was rather looking forward to seeing the play on its own merits. While she was well acquainted with Muggle plays, she never had the occasion to go to a Wizarding one. That was probably because of the wizards she was friends with. Even if she and her two friends weren't busy trying to save the world as they knew it, she rather doubted that Harry or Ron would want to see a play. They didn't seem like the type, preferring to do something more active. Hermione penned a quick response to Draco, letting him know that she would be looking forward to it.

She then turned to the second letter. She recognized the handwriting on the envelope straight away. It was clearly from Katie. Hermione opened and read it, smiling as she finished. Her friend was very diligent when it came to arranging the wedding, it seemed. Hermione wrote back to Katie, saying that she would be happy to meet this weekend to talk about wedding plans. She added as a postscript a plea that the meeting not be at Malfoy Manor. Hermione thought that Narcissa Malfoy might be easier to deal with if they met elsewhere. Faint hope, perhaps, but hope nonetheless. Having replied to both owls, she returned to concentrating on her work.

* * *

**Author's note:** Thanks so much for reading. :D Yes, this update is a little early. This chapter and the last used to be one whole chapter, but it was too long even after I cut out as much as I could. I wound up bifurcating it, so I thought I might as well post this one early since it was ready too. My apologies for the lack of Dramione interaction in this one. The next chapter should make up for that, and it will be up some time next week.

My thanks goes out to dynonugget, Ookami Otome, allycat1186, inadaze22, kazfeist, misssweetsweet, Chanteur d'ombre, and shat for reviewing the last chapter. :) Thanks so much.


	13. Vamo Alla Flamenco

**Ambition's End: Vamo Alla Flamenco  
**

**Disclaimer:** None of these characters are mine as they all belong to JKR. Also the play mentioned in this chapter is based on FFIX.

* * *

Hermione stood next to Draco as they stood in front of the imposing marble edifice that was the theatre. He peered through the crowd, looking for his friend. Earlier in the evening, he had picked her up from her flat and then had taken her out to dinner before they went on to the theatre, explaining that Theo and Nadia were unable to join them for dinner as their wedding was this weekend. She marveled at the fact that Draco's old friend even wanted to see them this week. It was even more amazing that his fiancée had agreed to it. If Hermione had been in her place, she would have shouted at Draco that he was being unreasonable and that it simply could not be done.

"Theo!" called out Draco as he spotted his friend. He waved a hand at someone towards his left. "Blast," he said, "I don't think he heard me. Let's go." He took her hand and began expertly weaving his way through the crowd, with her only a step behind him. He stopped in front of a gangly, dark-haired wizard who was a head or so shorter than Malfoy. He seemed vaguely familiar, and Hermione remembered that he had been in many of her classes.

"Hello Draco. I thought I heard you around here," said Nott genially. "I couldn't make out exactly where though."

"That's one of the advantages of being tall," Malfoy replied with a smirk. "I trust that you remember Hermione," he said, gesturing to her with his free hand.

"Of course! How could I forget the witch who single-handedly crushed all my hopes and dreams?" He smiled winsomely at her. "If it weren't for you, I daresay I would have held the highest marks in our year. Perhaps then I would be able to command some modicum of respect from Nadia."

The petite blonde by his side, who Hermione assumed to be his fiancée, swatted his arm. "Thanks, you twerp, for that lovely introduction. Would it kill you to do so once without making any clever remarks?" She stepped forward with a smile on her face. "My name is Nadia, Nadia Beoulve."

"Soon to be Nott," her fiancé added.

"We'll see about that. I might reconsider, the way you behave," she replied with a cheerful shake of her head to take out any sting from her words. "I've been wanting to meet you again for ages," she went on. "You've probably forgotten but I was that Ravenclaw who was absolutely hopeless at Charms that you tutored. I was only a third year."

Hermione tilted her head as she searched through her memory. She did vaguely recall a shy, young witch asking for help in Charms in the first year she had been a prefect. "I do remember you. You were one of the first to approach me for tutoring," Hermione said. She smiled back at the younger witch. "You were a quick study."

"If I was, that was due entirely to your ability at teaching. I have no natural talent for that subject, I'm afraid. And you wouldn't believe how much I got teased, especially since our Head of House taught Charms." She sighed dramatically. "In any case, I'm so happy you remember me. I thought you wouldn't because there were so many of us asking you for help. But then I suppose it would be like you never to forget a face. Certainly it's rumored that you've never forgotten anything you've read. I wish I had a photographic memory. Then it would have been infinitely easier to revise for N.E.W.T.s!"

As the younger witch continued to monopolize the conversation, Hermione was reminded of Ginny. The two of them both seemed to be ages younger than her. However, Nadia didn't annoy her the way Ginny did, probably because she didn't seem as nosy and interfering as the Weasley witch. She did seem a little young to be getting married though. By Hermione's calculations, the blonde witch would have only left Hogwarts this past June. She shook her head, trying to clear it of that thought. By some people's reckoning, she herself was too young to be getting married. Nadia appeared to genuinely love Nott, and it was blatant that her affection was returned.

"If you're done babbling, Nadia, shall we get to our seats?" Nott asked offering his arm to his fiancée. She twisted her nose and pushed his arm away.

"No I'm not done babbling, as you put it, but we can go to our seats regardless of that fact." She turned to face Hermione. "He always teases me," she said. "He's lucky I put up with him."

"I'm sure he knows that," replied Hermione.

"That I do," agreed Nott. "Come on, Nadia. Let's go. We all can talk the night away once we reach our seats."

"Unlike you, I can walk and talk at the same time," she shot back at him. "Just as well for me, I suppose. That way I don't have to deal with your clever remarks whenever we have to walk anywhere. Merlin knows I'd never get a break otherwise."

"Yes dear," Nott said with a sigh.

"Whipped already, I see," Draco noted. A small smile played upon his lips, and Hermione was struck by how handsome he truly was. He seemed to be in a good mood, and that in turn, lifted her own spirits. It was nice, she thought, to be able to spend an evening with him without the two of them constantly sparring. It was infinitely more relaxing when the two of them were both enjoying themselves. Hermione thought for that benefit alone she would be more than willing to go places with his friends again. It was a welcomed change from doing this with her friends because she had to worry about how hostile some of them were towards him.

He led them down the corridor and up two flights of stairs to the private box he had reserved for them. There was no door leading into the box, but rather a curtain that Draco pushed aside before they walked in. There were three levels of private boxes, and theirs box was on the central level, high above the stage. There were two rows of consisting of four seats each. The seats were upholstered in green and silver, and indeed the entire décor of the box was done in those colors, reflecting the background of its current occupant as it didn't exactly match the color scheme throughout the rest of the building. There were tables to either side of the seats, for refreshments later she assumed. Hermione looked down at the stage as she took her seat with Malfoy sitting down on her right. She was used to sitting up front and having to look up at it. Yet Hermione thought that these seats were better as they would have some privacy for their conversations.

"Have you ever been to a Wizarding play before?" Nadia asked as she took the seat to the left of her. Hermione shook her head no. "Neither have I. The stage seems so far away, doesn't it? Will we get binoculars or something to see it with?"

Hermione tapped the ledge in front of their seats. "We won't need them actually. There are permanent charms placed here that will magnify everything for us. It's as close to sitting on stage as you can get," she explained.

"Really? I didn't know that. It sounds like an excellent idea. I never did like fooling around with binoculars. They're very uncomfortable if you ask me, and I'd always feel like an owl after the play was over."

"Oh I agree. Magic can makes things so convenient at times. There are some things I like doing the Muggle way though."

"Yes. It's comforting to do things like make a pot of tea by using a stove rather than waving a wand. It's probably all in my head but it tastes better too, I think."

"Indeed," said Hermione.

"I'm glad that you agree with me. Theo here always says I'm just being silly."

"Not always," he objected.

She rolled her eyes. "I wasn't talking to you. And besides, even if it's not always, it's more times than I care to keep count of. But I like that I can do things without magic. Not that it isn't incredibly useful and all. But if I did everyday chores with it, it would seem less like magic."

"And you wonder why I call you silly," said Theo.

"No, I understand where she's coming from," said Hermione. "You have to understand that we grew up believing that magic wasn't real."

"You must have had bouts of accidental magic," Draco said, interrupting her explanation. "That didn't convince you it was real?"

"No," said Hermione, shaking her head. "Because everyone around me, particularly my parents, told me that it wasn't. I just thought I was a bit strange, that's all. And so when I learned that magic is real, I thought that it would be able to do all sorts of incredible things. Using it to make dinner or to dust the furniture doesn't really measure up to the idea I have in my head of what it should be able to do."

"Although using magic to wash the dishes and the like is wonderful," added Nadia.

"That it is," Hermione agreed. "I was never fond of doing the dishes." The two men exchanged a glance, and she wasn't sure what that meant. They did both appear to be interested in the discussion, although Hermione knew that it was almost certainly an act for Malfoy. She wondered if Nott was the same way. She hoped not for Nadia seemed like such a sweet girl.

"As fascinating a discussion this is," Draco drawled slowly, "I have to ask if you ladies would like any refreshments. Aside from wine of course."

Hermione shook her head. "No, I'm fine. Is the wine necessary?" This time the glance exchanged by the wizards was much easier to read. Clearly the need for wine was some sort of joke between the two.

"Yes, it is very much necessary, darling," Draco stated.

"Without it, what would we do for amusement?" added Theo.

Unfortunately since they were sitting on opposite sides of her, Hermione couldn't skewer them both with a single glance. She settled for glaring at Draco. "I thought that was what the play is for."

"It is," he replied succinctly.

Nadia sighed. "Typical. At first I thought Theo was just the reticent sort, but I found out soon after that Slytherins are inordinately fond of games of all sorts."

"And I found out that Ravenclaws aren't as fond of word games as I would have imagined," said Theo.

Hermione tapped her foot impatiently. "Well Draco is about to find out that Gryffindors don't really have much patience unless he expounds upon his answer."

Draco sighed dramatically. "Fine, fine. Obviously we will need the wine so we can play a drinking game for our amusement."

Hermione's brow furrowed. "Wait a second. I thought that the play we're seeing is_The Princess and the Thief_, from the Alexandria Saga. It's supposed to be rather good, not something that so horrible that you need to drink to get through it."

"It is," said Draco.

"Very good. One of my favorites from the Alexandria Saga in fact," said Theo.

"Yes, the later plays do drag on a bit, don't they?" noted Draco.

"That they do."

Hermione crossed her arms and counted to ten. When that didn't work, she returned to glaring at Draco, her gaze practically demanding a response. Finally he deigned to finish his explanation.

"The drinking game that Theo and I were referring to isn't for the play. It's for them." He waved a hand towards a lower box. Hermione leaned over to take a closer look when she was surprised by a bright flash coming from it, momentarily blinding her.

"You should have asked that there be some waiting for us," Theo said quietly.

"Yes, it appears that I should have. Frankly I am surprised that it's taken them this long to get set up."

Hermione blinked her eyes rapidly, trying to clear the haze from her vision. "Is what you're saying that we're supposed to take a drink every time they take a photo of us?" she asked, waving a hand towards the press box.

"Close," said Draco. "Rather we're supposed to take a drink whenever we're tempted to do something that we shouldn't with all of them watching." He smirked at her. "I imagine you wanted to hex the idiot who blinded you there." Hermione couldn't deny that. She would have loved to have done that, but she knew better than that.

Nadia's brow crinkled up in confusion. "But that doesn't make sense. If we get drunk, then aren't we more likely to give into temptation and do something we shouldn't?"

"That's why we not taking shots of anything really potent, like firewhisky. We just take sips of wine, dearest," said Theo.

"Very small sips for you, darling," Draco said to Hermione. "I imagine you'll be tempted the most amongst us all."

"Oh honestly!" Nadia rolled her eyes as she came to Hermione's defense. "I doubt that they'll bother us that much. We're not as interesting as you wizards think." Just at that moment, both she and Hermione were blinded by another bright flash as someone decided to take a picture of the two of them talking together.

"Oh dear," the younger witch said. "Is that really going to keep happening all night? You're not just having me on?"

"Yes, dearest. When we're with these two, expect to make the papers the next day," said Theo. "I believe your parents were also usually the center of attention," he said to Draco.

Draco nodded his head. "Yes, they were. Father said that it was sometimes a trial to come out for plays like this, but Mother enjoyed them so much that he could never tell her no. However it was frightening sometimes, how tightly she would grip her glass. He said that he was never completely certain that she wasn't going to start cursing the whole lot of them."

"That would have been interesting," said Theo.

"Father also said that there were times he was afraid that she would start choking him for reminding her to behave," said Draco. "I think he was having me on though. My mother has always been in control of her temper. I've never seen her lose it, really." Before anyone could reply to his words, the wait staff arrived with two decanters full of wine and placed one on the table next to Theo and the other on the table next to Draco. After the staff left, the four of them got up to congregate over by the table next to Theo. The conversation continued while they all got glasses of wine. However, the announcer calling for people to take their seats was their cue that the play would start soon. All four of them returned to their seats, with each glass charmed to float alongside its owner.

It took about fifteen minutes for everyone in attendance to do so, during which time Hermione took several sips from her glass of wine. Draco took about as many as her, evidently as annoyed at some of the antics the press was pulling in order to get them to look towards the press box. She sighed to herself and wondered if there was some way to get them banned. In the Muggle world, it was rare for cameras to be allowed inside a theatre. That would be a good rule for the Wizarding community to copy, she thought. She was supposed photography was allowable here because the stage could be charmed so the flash wouldn't disturb the actors. That wasn't the best use of magic, and she wondered if there was some way she could undo that charm permanently. She took another sip of wine, as that was probably something she shouldn't be tempted to do at the moment.

Finally the play started and the curtains lifted, only a couple minutes late according to Hermione's calculations. That was a pleasant surprise. She did so appreciate punctuality in all things. She sat back in her seat and watched avidly as the first scene commenced. She marveled at being able to see everything so clearly even though she was so far from the action. Truly it was as good as being on stage with all the actors.

The plot was a relatively simple one. In the play, the princess of the kingdom of Alexandria learns that her mother intends use her for an obscure ritual in order to gain more power on her sixteenth birthday. The princess immediately plans to escape to her uncle's kingdom, and she is helped in this scheme by a band of thieves masquerading as actors. It was entertaining enough, but not anything to be impressed with.

What did impress Hermione were all the fine details. The scenery was incredible. It looked as though there was an actual castle on stage, not merely a set. She could practically smell the food at the fête being held for the princess' birthday, and it made her mouth water. The fact that everything seemed so real pulled her into the play, and it was easy for her to imagine that she was actually there watching the events unfold. She let go of the breath that she didn't realize she had been holding when the first act was over and the lights came on again.

"That was simply amazing," Nadia said from beside her.

"It was," Hermione agreed. She sighed. "I wish I had seen a Wizarding play sooner but…."

"It's awfully hard when your parents aren't magic," Nadia said. "It's not just that they can't take you to something like this. I had friends who invited me during the summers, but I had to turn them down so I could do things with my mum and dad. But you have to spend time with them, and so you can't ever fully immerse yourself in the Wizarding World."

Hermione nodded her head. Nadia was right. It was hard for a Muggle-born to maintain a relationship not just with her parents but all her Muggle friends and family. It was a depressing subject so she decided to change it. "How long is the intermission?" she asked Draco.

"It's thirty minutes," he replied.

"Good. That's enough time to stretch."

"Yes, and walk around and socialize. Have you seen anyone you want to talk to?" he asked.

She looked at him, the corner of her lips turning up into a small smile. "Have you gone blind? How can I see who else is here? Whenever I tried to look at anything other than the stage, I would be blinded by them." Hermione motioned towards the press box, but she knew better than to look at it. "That's why my glass is empty."

"You should have listened to me when I told you to take small sips," said Malfoy.

"I did."

Theo laughed from his place next to Nadia. "Evidently you don't know your fiancée's temper as well as you think," he commented.

Hermione ignored the two wizards as they went back and forth. She stood up from her seat and took a moment to stretch. It felt good to work out the kinks that had started to form from sitting for so long. She then made her way to the table on the right of Draco where there was still a full decanter of wine. She stopped just as she reached the table.

Something felt off. She didn't know what it was. Hermione looked at the wine and then bent forward to get a whiff of its bouquet. It smelled differently from what she remembered. She drew her wand from where she had concealed it in her sleeve so she could cast a diagnosis spell.

But before she could do that, someone came crashing into her from behind. She careened into the hard, wooden table as both the glass and the decanter of wine went flying. The decanter shattered into a million pieces as it was hit by a bright green spell.

* * *

Draco leaned back in his seat. _The Princess and the Thief_ was one of his favorite plays, and he was enjoying this particular production. However, because it was one of his favorites, he had already seen it a couple times and read it countless more. As a boy he had always thought it dragged a little towards the middle of the first act when it went into details about the band of thieves' plan to infiltrate the castle. Now that he was older he could appreciate the reasons why it got slow. He would never believe that such a ragtag collection of thieves could break into any sort of castle without some sort of plan. However although he understood the reasons behind the pacing, he still found this specific scene to be rather boring.

A movement on his left caught his attention. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he saw Granger take a sip from her glass. He briefly wondered if it was because she was participating in his family's infamous drinking game or because she truly liked the vintage he had chosen. He also wondered whether Nadia's opinion of her idol would change if it were indeed the former.

Draco chuckled to himself as he remembered how Theo's fiancée fell all over herself when she was introduced to Hermione. Theo hadn't been exaggerating when he said that his witch greatly admired Granger. Draco hadn't believed his friend when Theo had claimed that Granger had a fan club of her own amongst the younger Ravenclaws. Draco had thought that his friend was having him on. However seeing for himself how much Nadia worshipped Hermione proved that Theo had been telling the truth all along. It had been astonishingly good luck on his part to trap Granger into marriage. No other witch would have helped his standing in the Wizarding World so much. If he hadn't stumbled upon the information that he did, he and his family would still be on the unofficial do-not-floo list of society.

He sat forward once again as the scene ended. He knew what was next. This was the good part, where the thieves put on a play of their own. He rather liked how clever that particular device was, a play within a play. Draco also liked the duel that two of the thieves put on to distract their audience from the activities of the other members of their band. To him, it was the highlight of the entire first act.

Once again, Draco found himself captivated by the back and forth, the thrust and parry of the two actors as they dueled to the delight of both audiences. He was on the edge of his seat even though he knew how it would end. From the corner of his eye, he could see the rest of his companions moving forward in their seats as well, a sign that they all agreed with his judgment that this was the good part. It was over all too soon. The curtain fell as the duel ended and the thieves made good on their plan to enter the castle.

Draco smiled smugly as he reclined once more, lifting his glass to his lips to take a drink. That had been absolutely fantastic. It was the best stage duel he had seen in a long time, and he was dead set on congratulating both actors on an outstanding job after the play was over. He decided to ask Hermione if she wanted to stay after to meet the cast—a formality of a question really as he was certain that she would.

However before he could do so, she turned around and asked him how long the intermission was. "It's thirty minutes," he replied.

"Good," she said. "That's enough time to stretch."

He smirked as he suggested that they socialize as well, and he found out the answer to his earlier musings. Evidently she had found the photographers to be that irritating. He reminded her that he had told her to take small sips, and with a toss of her head, she told him that she had.

"Not small enough," he said but she ignored him to get up and stretch.

"Evidently you don't know your fiancée's temper as well as you think," he remarked with a laugh.

"Trust me, I do," said Draco, thinking of the slap she had given him back in third year. "She's rather scary when her ire is raised but I thought that it would take more than that to irritate her."

"As I said before you don't know Hermione's temper as well as you think." Theo smirked at him.

Draco sighed. He knew that Theo wasn't going to let him have the last word. "I suppose dealing with them takes practice," he said, wishing to change subjects.

"They do tend to pick the worst moments for pictures," Theo agreed evenly. "Either you're doing something that you don't want recorded or it's at a part you really want to see."

"Indeed," Draco said. Granger walked past him and to the table, not saying a word to him. He hoped that she wasn't miffed at his teasing of her a few moments before. He had been joking but then he supposed he might have taken it too far. Sometimes he forgot that they weren't actually close. They were just good at pretending to seem so, each of them as skilled an actor as the two professionals who had dueled on the stage below. He got up and followed her to the table.

She stopped and frowned suddenly as she reached for the decanter of wine. Granger then bent forward to sniff at its bouquet, and Draco found himself nodding his head approvingly. She wrinkled her nose as she smelled it as though something was wrong with it.

_It must be corked_, thought Draco. _Oh well. We'll just have to send for another. Hopefully the wait staff should be here shortly. _ Then he noticed Hermione reaching for her wand. He moved forward again to tell her that they would simply get a replacement so she need not cast any spells to remove the cork taint when the curtain at the back of the box opened slightly. Figuring it was the wait staff, Draco spun around to tell them of the problem

Instead he saw Marcus Flint.

The words he was about to speak remained unspoken as he found himself unable to even move his tongue. His mind froze, unable to grasp why Flint was here.

However his body was already in motion even before Flint flourished his wand. Instincts that had been trained into him ages ago sprung to life, and he found himself careening into Hermione, sending her reeling away from the table and to the floor just as Flint cast his deadly spell. He had got there just in time as the decanter shattered into a thousand pieces above their heads.

Draco rolled off of Hermione, and he reached for his wand, desperately hoping to come up in time before Flint could throw anything else at them. However as he got to his feet, he saw the point of Flint's wand pointing at him, the older wizard smirked as he sent a jelly-fingers curse at Draco.

"_Protego_!" A shield charm slammed into place in front of him, just in time to deflect Flint's curse. Turning his head to see where the spell had come from he caught sight of Theo, his wand in hand. He grinned to himself. He wasn't alone in this. Flint couldn't hope to take them both on and win. There was no time to celebrate however. Flint had already grasped that he was outnumbered. Before either of them realized what was happening, Flint had taken aim at Theo's weak spot.

Nadia.

"_Ventus_!" Flint shouted and a gale of wind burst forth from his wand. Theo shouted a warning for her to get down but to no avail. Her back was turned and she was in the middle of casting a bubble shield to protect everyone else when the wind blasted into her. In a blind panic, Theo dropped his wand and scrambled towards her. He managed to grab hold of her as she was lifted off of the balcony by the sheer force of the wind. There was nothing Draco could do to help his friend for Flint was launching yet another attack, but this time at him. Draco ignored the screams erupted from all sections of the theatre as people become conscious of the fight that was going on, knowing that he couldn't afford to be distracted.

"_Confringo_!" Draco resisted his instinct to flinch as the blasting curse headed right towards him. His shield held up, just barely. It wasn't going to survive another attack. He had to go on the offensive.

"Give it up!" shouted Flint. "It's not you I'm after, Malfoy. I don't want to hurt you."

"_Stupefy_!" was Draco's only reply, taking advantage of the opening Flint had given him. Flint dodged left and the stunning spell just missed him. Draco wasn't finished yet. "_Expelliarmus_!" he called out but again it was no good as Flint quickly turned aside to evade the spell.

"Looks like someone's a bit rusty," Flint said with a smirk covering his face. "Let me show you how it's done. "_Stupefy_!" Draco sidestepped the stunner, but it took out the remnants of the shield charm that Theo had cast earlier. "It ends now!" Flint cried. "_Expelliarmus!_"

Instinctively Draco dodged left but he had to stop mid-step to avoid Theo who was still trying to pull Nadia up. He shifted right, to avoid bumping into his friend, but in doing so, the disarming spell caught up with him. His wand flew out of his hand and into the waiting hand of Flint.

Flint shook his head at Draco. "Didn't I warn you about thinking inside the box?" he asked contemptuously. "Too bad for you that you didn't listen to your old Quidditch captain." He raised his wand again, and Draco recognized the wand movement. Flint was going to use the stunning spell once more and then undoubtedly return to finishing off Granger once Draco was down.

Draco's mind raced thinking of ways he could get himself and Granger out of this. _Damn it!_ he cursed silently. _Where are the bloody Aurors when you actually need them? No where to be seen, of course!_

"Too bad for you I don't have the same problem." His eyes drifted over to peer in Hermione's direction at the sound of her voice. She was crouched on the floor, her wand beside her. Her hands were cupped in front of her chests, cradling an inferno of flames. With a smile and a flick of her wrist, she sent the flames spiraling out towards Flint.

* * *

When Draco had knocked her down, he had also knocked her wand from her grasp. Hermione frantically groped about to locate it, ignoring the spells being cast all around her. She barely noticed when a shield charm fell into place over both her and Draco. She berated herself for not noticing the danger sooner. She should have been more on guard. What use was it to train with Aurors if she couldn't even sense such an imminent threat like Flint?

_Finally!_ she thought, catching sight of her wand and crawling over to it. As she reached it, however, she heard Flint taunting Draco. She looked up and gasped at the scene before her. Nott was standing at the center of the box right by the edge, leaning half over it as he struggled to maintain his grip on Nadia, her weight pulling them both down. Draco was in an even worse position, having just been disarmed by Flint. With an ugly sneer upon his face, Flint was readying a powerful stunner to use on Draco even as he continued to taunt her fiancé.

She was not about to let that happen.

There wasn't enough time for her to pick up her wand, stand up, and cast a shield charm on Draco. However there was one attack that she didn't need any wand for. Fire had always been her special province. She hadn't needed anyone in first year to show her how to conjure the blue flames she used to keep warm. That instinct, that connection she had with the element of fire was with her now as she held her hands out in front of her and willed flames into being. This was wandless magic at its most basic, at its most elemental. This was _her_ magic in its original form, in its most powerful form.

"Too bad for you I don't have the same problem," she said, purposefully echoing Flint's earlier taunt to mock him. Flint whirled around to face her, and she smirked as his eyes widened upon seeing the danger he was in. She sent the flames spinning into his chest.

"_Protego!_" he cast frantically. He didn't get his shield charm up in time. Both Flint's robes and the curtain hanging behind him caught on fire. "_Aguamenti_!" was his immediate reaction, sending a jet of water to put out his robes. It was just the response Hermione was hoping for.

She rose to her feet and held her wand out in front of her. "_Glacialis laqueus_!" Her spell was aimed not at Flint, who was protected from any direct attack on him, but instead at the water he had summoned, transforming it into an icy web that entrapped him. "Surrender!" she demanded.

"Never you fucking cunt!" His face was a mask of rage as he launched himself against his icy bonds, ignoring the deep cuts he received as a result. "I'll give you a taste of your own medicine! _Incendio_!" He sent a ball of fire hurtling towards Hermione.

If the situation wasn't so serious, Hermione would roll her eyes at his stupidity and clichéd lines. That wasn't going to work against her. Her wand was moving in the counter before he had finished his spell as she cast the most powerful shield charm she knew. It easily absorbed the fire he had launched at her.

_I have to finish this now_, she thought to herself. _So far I've been lucky he hasn't cast any unforgiveables, except for the first one, _she thought. _I can't count on him not to starting throwing around nastier curses, maybe even the killing curse. He's already proven he's angry enough for it. And if I just keep dodging whatever he throws at me, someone else will get hurt._ She sighed heavily. _And it looks like no help will arrive in time. All right. Let's make my own diversion._ She pointed her wand at Flint and intoned, "_Expulso!_"

Flint laughed. "Forgot about my shield charm?" he jeered.

"Not at all," she replied as her curse hit the back row of seats, blasting them out of the ground and towards Flint. He flinched and that was all the opening Hermione needed.

She closed her eyes and cast her next spell. "_Lumos," _she said softly, to not give him any clue what she was planning. This was no ordinary light spell that she cast. It was much more powerful than the one used by wizards everyday. The bright beam of light that erupted from her wand blinded all that looked upon it. Opening her eyes, she saw Flint stumbling about as he had been caught off-guards by her unconventional attack. She pressed her advantage and continued to attack, his shield charm fading in the face of her relentless onslaught. Finally it was gone and she could end it.

"_Expelliarmus_!" she cried, disarming him. "_Incarcerous_!" Ropes appeared and wrapped themselves around Flint, and he fell to the ground.

Of course that was the moment when help finally around. A horde of Aurors stampeded into the box, wands drawn. At their center was a haggard man who was shouting orders as he strode forward to Hermione. She didn't know him but she recognized him from the descriptions Harry and Ron had given her of their boss, Givens.

"Briggs! Have your squad take care of Flint. And double check to make sure he's truly wandless. Jamison, your squad is in charge of securing Nott. Everyone else help me make sure Malfoy doesn't get away!"

"What?" Hermione sputtered. "What are you on about?"

Givens looked grim as he reached Hermione. "Thank you, Miss Granger, for holding them off. I'll have to ask that you hand over Flint's wand."

Hermione did as he requested albeit slowly so she could continue questioning him. "What do you mean you're in charge of bringing Malfoy in?" she asked again.

"Exactly that," he replied. Around them a pair of Aurors had taken hold of Flint while another was searching him. Three more Aurors were busy binding Nott after they had helped him to lift Nadia to safety. What positively infuriated Hermione, however, was the fact that Malfoy had been tied up by the remaining Aurors, who were now surrounding him as though he could somehow escape even though he was tightly bound.

"Good," said Givens as his Aurors finished securing Nott. "Marcus Flint, Theodore Nott, and Draco Malfoy. All three of you are under arrest for the attempted murder of Hermione Granger and Nadia Beoulve."

"What?" Hermione screeched."Are you mad? Draco didn't try to kill me. He pushed me out of harm's way, he _saved_ me!"

"Theo too!" added Nadia. "For Merlin's sake! If he wanted to kill me, all he had to do was let go."

Their pleas fell on deaf ears. "Miss Granger, Miss Beoulve, I realize that this has been a traumatic experience for the both of you and it is hard to comprehend the depth of betrayal that you have suffered. I assure you that we have proof that these three have colluded to plot your deaths. Have no fear however. I feel certain that we can get an exception to unleash Dementors upon these miscreants."

"You've got it all wrong," said Hermione. "Neither Draco nor Theo were trying to kill us. They were protecting us from him." She pointed at Flint.

Givens merely shook his head sadly. "Again I repeat that we have hard evidence that the three of them have been in contact since Monday in this scheme to kill you." He sighed heavily. "But I see that this has been too much for your frail feminine constitutions. Weasley! Escort both Miss Granger and Miss Beoulve home. In their state, it'll do no good to question them now. I'll send round my inspectors tomorrow to take their statements. Everyone else—let's get back to headquarters. It looks like we have a long night ahead of us." With that the Aurors Apparated away en masse, all three prisoners in tow.

* * *

**Author's note:** That seems like a good place to stop as any. ;) Thanks so much for reading and please review.

I would like to thank mhaj78, mikey-rocks, inadaze22, Chanteur d'ombre, dynonugget, PotterEntourage, misssweetsweet, estrella, lilmzhln18, kazfeist, and karaburnes for their reviews. :D I always enjoy reading what you all have to say. Thanks.


	14. Those Who Fight Further

**Ambition's End: Those Who Fight Further  
**

**Disclaimer:** None of the characters you recognize are mine. They are all property of JKR, Warner Brothers, etc.

* * *

While the holding cells at the Ministry were far and away better than even the best cell at Azkaban, they were still uncomfortable and cramped. Draco glowered, livid with rage about the fact that he was forced to share the same cell as Flint while Nott was off being questioned. He clenched his jaw, infuriated at the situation he found himself in. He had worked so hard to restore his family's reputation and he was still thrown unceremoniously into prison by the Aurors without a single question being asked.

Draco glared at the wizard in the corner. Flint had been thrown in withoutreceiving any medical attention, despite the fact he was bleeding profusely from the wounds he had received earlier. _Good_, Draco thought viciously. _I hope it hurts. I would like to strangle him right about now. It would serve him right, but it would also give those stupid Aurors a real reason to keep me here._

"Wishing I was dead?" Flint asked mildly.

"What do you think?" His palms itched with the urge to pummel Flint's face in.

Flint snorted. "No surprise there. You've always been the ungrateful sort."

"Oh! I'm being ungrateful, am I?" Draco realized he was getting loud and stopped. There were better ways to convey his contempt for the other wizard, and they involved less shouting and more sarcasm. "Well let me rectify that. Thank you Flint so very much for doing your level best to ruin my life and landing me in this shit hole. Truly I don't know where I'd be without you. Maybe fast asleep at home in my bed?"

"That shows how much you know about the manipulative cunt you've taken up with. Absolutely nothing," Flint said derisively as he sneered at Draco. "And to think that everyone once had such high expectations of you. To think that you could be entrapped by that slag so easily…my how the mighty have fallen."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Draco asked. "I have no idea what you have against Hermione, but believe you me, she didn't trap me. It was I who trapped her."

"Merlin! You really are a fool! Granger was known—is known—for being the cleverest witch to come out of Hogwarts for ages. What makes you think that you're so brilliant that you can take her down?" Flint lowered his voice. "But since I've failed here, I guess I better pull your blinders off before she comes to fetch you."

Draco repressed the urge to roll his eyes. "Please. You and I both know that that Auror in charge will be carting us off to Azkaban as soon as he's done questioning all of us. He meant that part about letting the Dementors having a go at all of us."

"How little faith you have in your fiancée."

"You and I both know that while she's clever, she not exactly cunning."

Flint snorted in disbelief. "Again your ignorance of the truth astounds me. She's more cunning than you and me put together. I would go so far to say that she's more cunning than any Slytherin you know. If it weren't for her blood, she would have been in our House, I bet."

"Is that so?"

"It is," Flint replied in a quiet voice. "Now shut up and listen. I don't know how much time we have before she springs you out. And mark my word she will. You want to know what I have against her. Well I'll tell you. It was her who stopped Katie from marrying me."

"And what proof do you have?"

"I was getting to that. What part of shut up didn't you understand? Never mind," he added quickly, waving at Draco to be silent. "Katie had flooed me after receiving my formal offer. She was ecstatic and said yes to me to my face." An expression of pain appeared upon Flint's face. "She was just sitting down to write her official reply when a knock sounded at her door. She told me that she would send it later that evening and left to answer the door. Before the floo was disconnected, however, I saw who it was. It was Granger." Flint paused in his tale, blinking away tears. "The next morning the _Daily Prophet _was swamped with speculation as to why she refused me before I even received notice that she had elected to use her right of refusal to turn me down."

"That's not proof of anything except that you have an irrational fear of Granger," Draco told him. "There are plenty of other things that could have happened to make your chosen witch change her mind."

"Funny. That's what she says too. That it's not Granger's fault, even though I bloody well know that it is." Flint grimaced. "I don't know what she has over Katie. At first I thought _imperio_ but I checked and it's not. But whatever Granger has over Katie, it must be big for Katie to agree to that and to continue to be friends with her, to continue to help her with her plans. And I also don't know what she's really after, if she's intent on punishing all pure-bloods or if it's something more sinister. But believe you me, she's the biggest schemer out there. She's the one who pushed through the marriage law after all."

"Now I know you're mad. Everyone knows that my father and his associates pushed that through even that Granger and her friends were vehemently against it."

"Is that so? If I remember correctly, the suggestion of a marriage law was a lark, just a plot by your father and his friends to derail any further investigations into their activities during the war. They weren't serious about it until Potter made that infamous speech of his."

"Yes, well, they're all still scared of Potter. He took down the Dark Lord after all," Draco said, pointing out what should have been obvious.

"And you don't find it at all suspicious that the speech he was supposed to give was filled with all sorts of veiled threats?" asked Flint, raising an eyebrow. "Three guesses who wrote that speech though you should only need one. And if you can't figure that out, then there is no help for you."

"Granger?" asked Draco. He saw no reason to question that assertion. It did make sense because he couldn't see Potter being able to string together two sentences without Hermione's help.

Flint said nothing in response as he seemed lost in thought once more. Draco ignored Flint and his ramblings about what he should have done. It didn't look like the older wizard had anything else useful to say. Instead his mind raced as he considered the possibility that Hermione had arranged for the marriage law to be passed. Flint's accusations were flimsy, but it wasn't as though Draco had anything better to do at the moment.

However before he could spend much time thinking things through, the door to the room that held their cell flung open. In walked several Aurors, followed by the head Auror, then by Hermione and the Minister himself. The whole group made their way to the cell currently occupied by Draco and Flint. Flint looked at Draco, his eyes shimmering with glee that he had been right about Hermione coming along to get Draco out of the predicament he had found himself in.

* * *

Hermione was incensed after the Aurors left. How dare Givens brush her aside as though she was merely a hysterical witch? It was absurd to think that Draco was trying to kill her. If he wanted her dead, he wouldn't have bothered of knocking her away from Flint's initial attack, which would have severed her head from her body from the look of things. She shook her head sharply. She wouldn't do any good just staying here and fuming.

"Let's go," she told Ron who was hovering beside her.

"Hang on. You're agreeing to go home?" His mouth hung open from shock as he stood there, just looking at her.

"Don't be ridiculous." Hermione glanced over at Nadia who was wringing her hands. "Are you coming?" she asked.

"What? Where?" asked the other witch.

"To the Ministry, of course, to get your fiancé out."

"I can't believe they took him away," Nadia wailed. "Even after we both spoke up for them. I feel so useless! I wasn't even able to cast a single spell, that's how useless I am!"

"There's nothing to be gained for berating yourself for what you did and didn't do," Hermione told her sharply. "Instead you should concentrate on what you can do now. Do you want to go home? Or do you want to join me in storming the Ministry to get our wizards out?"

"Oi, Hermione. You can't just storm the Ministry. Do you know how many Aurors are stationed there? Do you intend to take them all on?" Ron pleaded with her.

"If I have to," she asserted. Then she looked around. "Where's Harry? Why isn't he here?"

"He's been taken off of stand by duty since last Friday," replied Ron. "Seems like he has a lead that he's trying to follow up on."

"So he's probably at his flat right now," Hermione concluded. She nodded her head. "Good. Go get him, Ron."

"What?"

"You heard me. Go fetch Harry. You can do that, at least," she told him, turning up her nose to look down at him. "I might need him to back me up."

"Hang on! You're really going to storm the Ministry? Hermione! You can't be serious."

"Is that so?" she asked, arching an eyebrow. Storming the Ministry was appealing, especially when she remembered how Givens had mocked her as having a 'frail feminine constitution,' but in the end that path would only get them all labeled as fugitives. There were other options open to her, and she intended to take advantage of one of them. After all what was the point of knowing the Minister of Magic personally and having fought beside him in the war if she didn't ask for a favor every now and again.

"Hermione please think about what you're doing." Ron stood in front of her, his eyes pleading with her to listen to him.

She rolled her eyes. Trust Ron to think that she would try to do something as foolish as taking on all the Aurors by herself. It was something that he and Harry might attempt, but she was more cunning than both of them put together. "Actually I plan to ask Kingsley Shacklebolt for help. It's not even ten yet. Knowing the hours he tends to keep, I'm certain he'll still be there, hard at work. I should be able to get in. And if I'm not able to by myself, I certainly will be able to with Harry there to help."

"But Hermione—"

"I suggest you stop that right now, Ron. I'm beginning to think that you share your boss' opinion that I'm not in my right mind."

"I'm beginning to think that too," Ron muttered.

"Oh? Care to repeat that?" She placed a hand on her wand, ready to stun Ron if he was going to be foolish enough to try to stop her.

"No, no, not like that." He held up his hands as he noticed her grip on her wand. "I know you. You're not the type to lose it just because you were attacked. If you were, you'd probably not be alive right now. But trying to force your way in to the Minister's office…you should think it over, Hermione."

"I'm hoping they'll let me in. Now are you going to make yourself useful or what?" Ron nodded his head. "Good. So go on and get to Harry's place. Let him know the situation and then head to the Minister of Magic's office. Hopefully I'll be in already by the time you get there, but if not then we'll take things from there."

"All right," said Ron. He Apparated away to follow Hermione's orders. She turned her attention to Nadia.

"So? Coming along for the ride?" she asked.

Nadia wrung her hands, torn as to what she wanted to do. She wound up nodding her head. "Yes. Yes, I am. Because I couldn't live with myself if I didn't try to do something."

"Good. Then let's go." Hermione walked forward to grasp Nadia's hand and then she Apparated them into the atrium of the Ministry. Hermione's status as an Unspeakable was enough to get them past all the junior Aurors who had got stuck with guard duty tonight and were patrolling for unauthorized visitors. The guards they passed by merely nodded at the two witches going by before returning to their duty. Hermione repressed a smile. It felt good to know that even though she was no where near as famous as Harry, she was still able to walk through the Ministry at night without getting stopped. She supposed it helped that she did know many of them as she often dropped by to visit her friends.

That all changed when they came to level one, where the Minister's office was located. As they got off of the lift, they were stopped by a pair of burly Aurors who stood shoulder-to-shoulder in front of the corridor leading out from the lift so that no one could get through.

Hermione lifted her chin as she approached them. "Excuse me," she said. "I need to get through."

"I'm sorry miss, but it's after hours," said one of them.

"Really? Is that why there's no one else about except for us and all you Aurors masquerading as guards? I hadn't realized that," Hermione replied snarkily. Beside her, she could hear Nadia stifling a laugh. "I know it's after hours. I'm an Unspeakable and I'm allowed in."

"I'm afraid you must have got off on the wrong level. This isn't the Department of Mysteries. This is level one where the Minister of Magic's office is located," the wizard told her. "It is now after hours, and the Minister generally doesn't expect any visitors this late. Unless you two have an appointment I was not informed about, I'll have to ask that you go back the way you came."

"I don't have an appointment because this is an emergency. You might not know this but the thing about emergencies is that it's really hard to know when exactly they're going to happen so you can arrange for an appointment with the people who can deal with it. It's imperative that I speak with Kingsley right away so we can get this matter taken care of," Hermione said.

"I'm sorry but orders are orders. Please try again tomorrow morning," the guard said in a monotone.

"What part of the word emergency don't you understand? Now go on and let us through. Trust me, you'll be thankful you did."

"Is that a threat?" The young Auror reached for his wand and his partner did the same. Hermione rolled her eyes. That wasn't about to scare her off. If she couldn't avoid a duel with them, then so be it. As it was, a part of her was itching for a fight with the Aurors as she was still incensed over Givens' comments.

"Funny you should ask that. I'm not the one brandishing my wand about," she said.

"I think it's time you follow my orders and leave."

She smiled viciously at him. "No, I think it's time that you grow a brain and step aside. Not unless you think that you can really take me down."

Just then the other guard put two and two together, and realized just who was in front of them. He tugged at the arm of the guard who was currently facing off against Hermione. "Oi! That's Hermione Granger! You don't want to take her on."

"I don't care who she is. She's not allowed through."

"But if she says it's an emergency …."

"I don't care. Orders are orders. No one goes through after hours unless they've made a prior appointment."

"It's awfully amusing how you cling to the belief that you can stop me from going where I want to go. I'm about done with words. Now there are two ways this can go. The first way, which involves less pain and humiliation on your behalf, entails the two of you letting me pass. I assure you that Kingsley will not reprimand you in the slightest for doing so."

By now, Hermione had extracted her wand and was twirling it around. While she gave the appearance of doing so unthinkingly, in reality she was ready to launch any number of spells at the slightest provocation. "The second way, which is getting more appealing to me with each passing moment, involves me giving you a lesson free of charge on how to use those wands of yours. Make no mistake. You won't enjoy it. When the next shift comes in, they'll be laughing at you for hours, and I'll do my best to get you hounded out of your positions one way or another. So which way is it going to be?"

"Let her go," the second wizard said.

"What? But—"

"She's Hermione Granger. You're a bigger fool than I thought if you think that we can take her down. Besides she's hardly any threat to the Minister so if anyone asks we can say that's why we didn't stop her. I bet that's what everyone else will say. Someone had to let them get this far in the first place." He stood aside. "You can go through, Miss Granger." He then looked over at his recalcitrant partner. "You better do the same too, not unless you want her to hand your bollocks to you on a platter."

"A nice, shiny silver one," Hermione agreed pleasantly. The first guard looked at her and then at his partner before finally moving so that Hermione could pass.

"Fine," he said stiffly, turning his head the other way as Hermione and Nadia walked by. As the witches left the two junior Aurors behind, Hermione could hear the two of them continuing to argue about the whole situation. She lengthened her stride. The less time it took for them to reach the Minister's office, the less likely they would be to run into another one of the roving patrols. She didn't want to have to waste time in browbeating too many pairs of junior Aurors into letting her go. While Hermione was willing to take things to the next level if she had to, she preferred to avoid taking the route of brute force as she believed that should be a last resort.

The hairs on the back of her neck suddenly stood up, alerting her to the fact that they were being followed. _It would have been nice if they reacted earlier back when Flint first appeared_, she thought. _I'm never going to live down being saved by Malfoy. Or rather having to be saved by him. I don't mind that he helped me, but I don't like the fact that I needed the help._ Without turning her head, she asked, "Are you two gentlemen going to try to stop us?"

"Far be it from me to stop so determined a lady. Particularly when I think she'll ultimately be providing the entertainment for this evening." Hermione knew who that haughty drawl belonged to. Although Blaise Zabini hadn't said much to her while they were both students at Hogwarts, he had said enough that she wouldn't ever forget that superior tone of voice that he used with everyone.

She stopped and whirled around to face him and his partner, Glenn Chambers. "You two pulled guard duty tonight?" she asked.

Zabini rolled his eyes. "You would be surprised how often it happens. I'm beginning to think that Givens wants to get rid of the both of us."

His partner grunted in disbelief. "Hardly. Just you. Trust me, he's been in my office several times offering to reassign me to a partner with more promise than you."

"I know."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. "You keep track of your own partner even?"

"I have to, and he knows it. That's why we work well together. You see, Givens hates Slytherins and would love nothing better than to see me banished from the ranks of Aurors. I suppose he is the reason why you're here. What has the old fool done now?"

Hermione spun back around and motioned for the two junior Aurors to walk with them. "He's arrested Draco for attempting to murder me."

"Did he?" asked Zabini.

"No!" was Hermione's quick response.

"Didn't think so. For all his faults, Malfoy isn't dense. He knows that if anything happened to you, he would be the prime suspect," said Zabini. He frowned at the Ravenclaw witch. "Don't tell me he charged Nott with wanting to kill you," he said to Nadia.

"He did! And it's ludicrous because if it weren't for him I'd already be—"

Zabini held up a hand to stop her ranting. "I know, trust me, I know. It's almost sad how smitten he is. I would have never pegged him for one to be so disgustingly in love."

"That shows how little you know him," Nadia replied.

"Perhaps. But to get back to the matter at hand, I take it you intend to speak with Shacklebolt about your respective fiancés being locked up."

"Got it in one." Hermione made a right turn towards Kingsley's office.

"Technically I suppose we should stop you before you get there. Seeing how we are supposed to be guarding the Minister and all."

Hermione lifted up one eyebrow demurely. "But I thought you weren't the type to stop such a determined lady," she said, smiling and showing all her teeth.

"I know better, thank you very much." He shrugged and then glanced over at Chambers. "Do you have any objections?"

"None at all. It had been a dreadfully dull evening until these two came along," the other wizard replied. "You ladies don't mind us escorting you, do you?"

"So long as you don't plan to stop me, you can come along for the show," Hermione said.

"I can hardly refuse such a tempting invitation," said Zabini. The four of them proceeded towards the Minister's office. Neither Hermione nor Zabini said much else but Chambers and Nadia talked amongst themselves. She supposed they had a lot in common given that they were sorted into the same house. A few minutes later, they arrived in front a set of heavy, double doors. Hermione stepped forward and knocked sharply on it, her three companions all hanging back behind her. She was about to knock again when the door swung open.

To her surprise, Kingsley himself had opened the door, his wand in hand as though he was ready for the worst. "Hermione," he greeted her warmly. "How are you?"

"Well enough thank you, but I'm afraid there's something I need to talk to you about straight away."

"Yes, that would explain why you're here at such a late hour." He motioned for them to go inside his office. Hermione did and was followed by the others. "Is this in regards to the problem you were going to bring to my attention tomorrow?" Kingsley asked as he crossed the room back to his desk, returning his wand to its holster all the while.

"No," she said, flushing. She hated having to ask him for two favors in such close proximity, but she simply would not allow Draco to rot away in the hands of the head Auror any longer than necessary. He didn't deserve that. "This is about something that just came up."

"Oh?" He sat down at his seat and folded his hands together. The look he gave her told her that she should go ahead and elaborate.

"Your head Auror, Givens, has arrested both Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott for attempting to murder the two of us," she said, gesturing to Nadia. "It's absolutely not true, Kingsley. Draco saved me by pushing me out of the way. Theo saved her from being thrown off of the balcony."

"I see," he said. "Are you so certain that you've perceived the situation accurately? I know that it may have seemed like he saved you but maybe that was by accident. Maybe he really did intend to do you harm."

"Trust me. It wasn't like that," said Hermione.

Zabini coughed. "I tend to believe her, sir. While I won't pretend to know what goes on inside of Malfoy's head, I know that Nott is truly in love with Nadia here. He won't stop talking about her whenever we're at the pub together, no matter how much we tease him. It would be absolutely out of character for him to do anything that would hurt her."

Kingsley solemnly looked at them each in turn. Then he sighed. "Hermione, while I can understand your concern for Malfoy, I am wary to use my authority to interrupt an ongoing investigation by the Aurors."

"And I wouldn't ask you if I thought that they would treat him fairly," she said quickly. "But for Merlin's sake—he didn't even have his wand in his hand when the Aurors finally arrived. They didn't bother to take my statement or Nadia's about what really happened. As soon as they tied up our wizards along with the real culprit, they just left without bothering to question anyone at all. Instead, Givens, just made veiled threats about sending all of them to Azkaban shortly."

Kingsley frowned. "To Azkaban? He said that?"

"Yes!" Hermione nodded her head vigorously. "And before he had even done a proper investigation. It's as though he's already made up his mind that they're guilty, even though they're not."

"I see." His brow furrowed and the Minister looked to be deep in thought as he considered what Hermione had just told him. "It's probable given his history that they are naturally suspicious of young Malfoy. Givens did say he would send someone along to question you tomorrow, correct?"

"Yes, but—"

Kingsley waved his hand, indicating that she should be quiet. "Well then, let's wait and see how everything develops. You should have more faith in the process, Hermione. I am certain that if Draco is truly innocent, he will be released very shortly."

Hermione drew herself up to her full height. She clenched her hands into fists, thinking that she would not leave without making sure that Malfoy was freed. "Have more faith in the process? You can't be serious! Why should I let Draco be locked up for who knows how long just because you want to see if the process works? Because I'm telling you right now that it's already broken. Nadia and I were willing to vouch that our wizards had done nothing but defend us. For that is indeed all that they had done. But no one listened to us. Instead Givens mocked us, calling us both hysterical witches who can't be counted on to think straight!"

Hermione bit her lip as she remembered that moment. How dare that fool imply that she was weak? "You _know_ me Kingsley. You know my abilities. You know that I think clearly, that I'm not the sort to get hysterical or to see things that are not there. If I say he's innocent, that should be enough!"

"Careful Hermione. You're not sitting in judgment here," Shacklebolt said, somewhat coldly. "Let the Aurors do their work."

She decided to change her tactics. She sighed and shook her head from side to side reproachfully. "You know, I never thought the day would come that you would disappoint me as Minister of Magic," she remarked in a softer tone of voice.

"What? For not doing as you request?" He looked at her sternly. "Hermione, I am not beholden to anyone."

"Not for that," she said. "But for holding on to old prejudices. If it were Harry or Ron who were locked up, and I came to you to let you know they were being held against their will innocent of what they were being charged of…we wouldn't still be here talking."

"Your friends are different from your fiancé. Of course I would not hesitate to help them. I don't have to go into the details why."

"I know. Because they were on our side. Kingsley, how can you expect anyone from the other side to trust you if you're not willing to extend any trust to them? You want to wait for the process to carry itself out? Fine then. Let's assume it will work despite all the evidence to the contrary. Let's say that Draco and Theo get out in a day or two. In the meantime, all of their connections will be stewing as to the injustice of it all. They'll all be grumbling how it shouldn't have taken that long because the two targets of the attack were willing to vouch for them.

"And they would be well within their rights to grumble. Because it is_ not_ right. Just because you don't like them, just because you don't like their fathers, the way they were brought up…none of this should stop you from doing what is right." She widened her eyes and looked at him sorrowfully. "We're never going to be able to get them to trust us if we're not willing to give them a chance."

Kingsley let out a deep breath. "You are incredibly persuasive when you put your mind to it," he said. "I can't help but think you're wasted in the Department of Mysteries. Don't worry. I won't say anything else. I know that you don't like to hear that even from your friends." He stood up. "I suppose I can hurry the investigation along. That won't be an abuse of my authority. You are both prepared to give a statement now?"

Hermione nodded her head.

"Me too," added Nadia softly.

"Good. Then you shall give them now. It is ridiculous, of course, for anyone to suggest that you're not in your right mind. I'll remind Givens of that." His brow furrowed as though he had remembered something unpleasant. "Yes, I do suppose Givens isn't always the most rational of men. Best to make sure he's not making a mistake," he mumbled to himself. He walked over to the door, and Hermione turned around to follow him to back to level two. Before he could touch the doorknob though, the door swung open and there stood Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.

"Kingsley!" cried Harry. "So sorry to bother you this late but—"

"Hermione has already filled me in on the situation," the older wizard replied, casting a wry look back at her.

"Oh," said Harry, deflating. "Well there's one thing she couldn't have told you. Because she doesn't know. Malfoy's not guilty. He wasn't part of any scheme by Flint to get rid of Hermione."

"Actually, I did say that," Hermione said.

"Come on, children," said Kingsley genially. "We can walk to level two while Harry here tells me how _he_ knows that Malfoy is innocent." Harry and Ron stood aside to let the Minister by, and then the entire group began making their way to level two, which was where Aurors usually held their prisoners who were awaiting interrogation these days. After the initial examination was done, the Aurors would then transfer the prisoners to Azkaban if there was enough evidence to warrant continuing to hold them.

Harry explained along the way how Malfoy had helped him, giving him hints about what might lead him to potential suspects. Hermione was surprised to learn that. She hadn't known that Draco had done that. Once Harry was done with his tale, Kingsley thanked him for the information with a certain gleam in his eye. Hermione recognized it. It meant that the Minister was beginning to believe that Draco had nothing to do with the attempt on her life.

Kingsley smiled wanly at Harry and Hermione. "While I don't like interfering with the Aurors, I suppose I must in this case. To do nothing would be wrong. Thank you, Hermione. Sometimes with everything that I have before me, it is easy to ignore what is right in favor of what is easy. We all know what a disastrous choice that is."

By now they were fast approaching the Auror division. Kingsley and Harry led the way, with Hermione close on their heels. Ron and Nadia followed after her, and bringing up the rear were Zabini and Chambers. "Where's Givens?" barked Kingsley as the group entered Auror headquarters.

"Here sir." Givens approached the group, looking balefully at the two witches. "To what do I owe this pleasure, sir?" he asked.

"Miss Granger here tells me that you've arrested her fiancé."

"That I have, sir. You need not worry," he said, turning to face her. "I promise you that he won't ever hurt you again."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "He wasn't trying to in the first place."

"That's what you think," Givens replied. "Clearly she's not—"

"Yes, yes she is clearly upset that he has been arrested," Kingsley said hastily before the head Auror could accuse Hermione of not being in her right mind again. "That is at the crux of the matter. I know you're an excellent Auror, Givens, but Hermione believes that her fiancé is innocent and would like to give her statement now."

"I see. If she wants to give it now, then she may. I simply was trying to show a bit of sensitivity in not asking her to speak with us right away. I do recall you saying that we Aurors should be less brusque when dealing with victims," Givens said.

"That I did," Kingsley said mildly. "But I see no reason why she cannot give her statement this evening, especially since she is so willing. Indeed knowing how well she keeps her head in bad situations, she is the best witness out there. It can only help your investigation to question her sooner rather than later." He coolly stared at his head Auror to see if Givens would be foolish enough to suggest that Hermione would be anything but a rational and coherent witness.

"If you'll come this way, Miss Granger, Miss Beoulve." Givens directed them towards his office. "We can start taking your statements right away, if that's what you want." He glanced over at Kingsley. "Thank you for stopping by, sir. I'll see you later then, Minister Shacklebolt."

"On the contrary, I would like to stay and watch."

"Why?" Givens was instantly skeptical. "You don't think that I know how to conduct an investigation?"

"No, it's not that. I'm not questioning your expertise. But given who is accused here, I've decided it is best that I'm present for everything. There may be complaints later, after all, that we didn't treat your suspects properly because of their families' history."

Givens threw his hands up above his head in frustration. "Since when have you been concerned with how we treat Death Eaters?" he asked.

"Givens. Do not forget who you are speaking to. I am well-aware of the prisoners' pasts. I am also aware of the fact that none of them ever took the Dark Mark, and that all were children during the last war. Besides, Auror procedure dictates that two people be present whenever a statement is being taken. You would need someone else to be there, so it might as well be me." Kingsley turned back to the group. "Zabini, Chambers, I would appreciate it if you go back to your patrol. Thank you for bringing these two ladies to see me. Potter and Weasley, please remain here in case we need you later."

Givens looked like he was going to say something about that, but then he thought the better of it. Nodding stiffly at the Minister, he led the way into his office. He sat down at his desk. Kingsley pulled up a chair so he could sit next to the Auror, indicating that the witches should take seats on the other side. For the next hour, Hermione and Nadia went over their stories of what had happened at the theatre. Givens asked no questions. He merely frowned as he scribbled in his notebook. Kingsley, on the other hand, asked many questions of both witches as they gave their accounts.

When they were finished, Givens snapped his notebook close. "Thank you, ladies, for coming down here to give your statements so promptly. I wish you a good night." He rose from his chair to see them out, but Kingsley spoke up.

"Not so fast, Givens. About the wands?"

"Yes?" Givens asked testily.

"Did Malfoy have his wand when you arrested him?"

"No," said Givens. "But I have reason to believe he had tossed it over to Flint after Miss Granger disarmed his accomplice."

"I see. What about Nott's wand?"

"One of my Aurors found it on the ground. The general consensus is that he dropped it while struggling with my men as they arrested him."

"Is it here?"

"Yes."

"May I see it?" Reluctantly, Givens walked over to the evidence safe in the corner of his office and took out Nott's wand. He placed it on the desk in front of Kingsley. The Minister took out his own wand and cast _prior incantato_ on it. Immediately images flickered in the air in front of them, detailing the last spell it had been used for.

"Ah. The last spell cast by this wand was _protego_," he said as he banished the images with another wave of his wand. "That corresponds with Nadia's account."

Givens' face turned sour, as though he had just swallowed a bitter pill. "Yes, sir. I believe she also mentioned that he had cast the spell on his accomplice, Draco Malfoy."

"Yes, she did. She said Nott did so because Malfoy was dueling with Flint at the time." Kingsley tapped his fingers against the desk. "What evidence do you have that the three of them were working together?" he asked.

"Sir, on Monday one of my most trusted Aurors saw Malfoy and Flint meeting at a café in Diagon Alley. During the time they were together, Malfoy received a note from Nott, whose contents he discreetly shared with Flint. It is clear from this interaction that the three of them were conspiring together to kill Malfoy's and Nott's fiancées."

"Hang on! I know about that note," Nadia said in a rush. "I was with Theo when he wrote it. He had received one from Draco inviting us to dinner as well as the play. I asked that we just go to the play because I had so much to do this week." She looked pleadingly at the Minister. "Please. You've got to believe me. I saw every word he wrote. There was nothing sinister in that letter. And Theo would never do anything like this. He wants to move on with his life, not continue to fight his father's old battles."

"The letter could have been written in code," suggested Givens.

"Yes, it could have been." Kingsley looked long and hard at the head Auror. "Givens, based on these ladies' statements and the evidence uncovered, you can't continue to hold Nott and Malfoy."

"But sir! I know they're guilty! There's nothing innocent about either of them."

"You have no proof of that," Kingsley said gently.

"Since when have we needed proof for people we know are bloody guilty?" Givens said. His face was red with anger.

"Proof is always a pre-requisite before prosecuting someone. Otherwise we run the risk of imprisoning the innocent. You have no solid proof, Givens. Even you have to admit that. You have to let them go," Kingsley told him.

"And so you're going to let them walk because we have no solid proof?" Givens raised his voice angrily. "The more things change, the more they stay the same, it seems. And I thought things would be different now, that we wouldn't repeat the mistakes of the past."

"We won't. However you simply can't arrest someone for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. That would also be a mistake, one that I don't want us to make. The previous government did enough of that, and I refuse to follow in their footsteps. Furthermore, Hermione is an excellent judge of character. I believe her if she says that Malfoy isn't plotting against her, and I suggest that you do the same." Once again Givens seemed to be on the verge of saying something, but then stopped after having thought the better of it. "Where are Malfoy and Nott now?" asked Kingsley, rising from his seat.

"Nott's being interrogated right now by Sigurd and his partner. Malfoy is in the holding cell with Flint. Are you going to let Flint out too?" Givens asked bitterly. "Seeing how you're feeling so generous towards these children of Death Eaters tonight?"

Kingsley narrowed his eyes at his head Auror. "I'll let that slide this time, Givens, knowing what I know about what you have lost. Don't test me though. The next time you make a comment like that, I'll place you on administrative leave."

"Sorry sir," said Givens through clenched teeth.

"Apology accepted. Flint, you can keep as all of the evidence and testimony we have make it clear that he is guilty. Now let's get those two wizards out." Givens reluctantly took the group to a nearby office. He knocked three times on the door before entering. When the four of them went in, two Aurors were leaning nonchalantly against the wall while Nott sat in a seat. Nadia leapt forward to give him a hug, and Hermione felt a smile tugging at her lips while she watched their reunion. The two of them left as soon as Nott was told that he was free to go.

As they walked out of the room, Givens called for several of his Aurors to accompany them. "Just in case there are any problems," he said to Kingsley, "I want to be prepared."

"That's fine. It never hurts to be prepared."

"Thank you so much for that, sir." Givens spat out the last word like it were an epithet. When they reached the large room that housed the holding cells, he instructed his Aurors to enter first to make certain it was still secure. He followed them in. Kingsley went in next, with Hermione by his side.

As she walked in, her eyes immediately sought out Draco. She could feel her heart pound in her chest as she desperately hoped that he was all right. She let out a sigh of relief when she saw him. He looked none the worse for wear. Her eyes slid over to Flint, and she had to stifle a gasp.

"You didn't treat his injuries?" she asked Givens accusingly. Though she didn't like the wizard, she still wanted him to be treated humanely.

"Scum like him doesn't deserve any treatment," he answered angrily.

"That's right. Don't do me any favors, you slag." Hermione looked at Flint. He seemed intent on drilling a hole through her skull with his gaze alone. For a moment, she wondered why he persisted in hating her so. After all, it wasn't as though he knew that she was responsible for Katie turning him down or for the rumors that were spread about his being impotent. Maybe she was just a convenient scapegoat for him because he couldn't bring himself to hate Katie. She didn't know and it really didn't matter. He had sealed his fate when he had attacked her publicly. Hermione hoped that this would be enough to help Katie finally get over her former lover.

Meanwhile, the Aurors were extracting Draco from the cell. Two of them were helping him up while the rest kept their wands trained on Flint. Once he was out, Hermione stepped forward to hug him.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied. He slowly blinked his eyes, seeming to be in a daze.

"That's good." She turned to face Kingsley and Givens. "Can we leave now?"

"Yes, of course. I'm sorry that it took so long."

"Thank you," she told Kingsley warmly. "Good night." She took Draco's hand and started to lead him away.

"Just one thing, Hermione," said Kingsley.

"Yes?"

"I just wanted to let you know how very happy I am that you are safe."

"Thank you, sir." Hermione walked Draco out of the Ministry, keeping an eye on him. As they got farther and farther away from Auror headquarters, he seemed to recover from his daze and was able to answer her questions about how he was treated. It appeared as though he was immediately thrown into the holding cell with Flint while Nott was taken elsewhere. The other wizard was too busy muttering to himself to pay any attention to anything else. Draco asked after his friend, and Hermione let him know that Nott was all right and had already left.

They parted ways once they left the atrium, with her returning to her flat and him going back to the manor. It was only when she was taking her bath later when she realized that she had forgotten to thank him for what he had done for her. It was late, however, so she resolved to do so the next time she saw him.

* * *

**Author's note:** That's it for this chapter. Please review. It would really make my day.

The next chapter, Thoughts Not Extinguished, should be up next week. Once it gets posted, this fic will finally be halfway done. Then the fun can really start.

Finally, I would like to thank allycat1186, karaburnes, German Lady, SerenaLupin-Potter, lilmzhln18, inadaze22, misssweetsweet, Chanteur d'ombre, dynonugget, kazfeist, WinterhartZahneelCalina, nelygirl, oneamsoundstage, dreamingdarling, RememberMe2, shat, Blood57, salazors, rah-rah8, Shandi Luaine, Dame Brittany, and meggie2224 for their reviews. :D Thanks so much. Sorry this chapter took longer than usual.


	15. Thoughts Not Extinguished

**Ambition's End: Thoughts Not Extinguished  
**

**Disclaimer:** None of the characters you recognize are mine. They are all property of JKR, Warner Brothers, etc.

* * *

Draco stared up at the ceiling of his room as he laid in bed. He was dreadfully tired from both his earlier duel and his imprisonment at the Ministry. Tried as he might, he found that he could not sleep, not when he had Flint's words to puzzle over. If Flint were to be believed, Hermione was not only responsible for Katie Bell refusing him in such a dramatic manner, but she was also responsible for the marriage law ever being enacted.

That was hard to believe. The only reason why Draco continued to mull over Flint's evidence—though it hardly being called as such—was because the other wizard believed in it almost fanatically. He supposed he could see Hermione being against her friend agreeing to marry Flint. But if indeed Hermione did convince Bell to refuse Flint, all that meant was that Flint wasn't held as in high regard by Bell as he had thought.

The biggest problem he had with Flint's theories was that it was hard for him to think of Granger being manipulative in the slightest. It seemed to go against the Gryffindor code of conduct. Of course Dumbledore was perhaps the most manipulative person he had ever met and that old wizard had been a Gryffindor as well. He had also seen how well Hermione was able to control her famous best friend back when they had dinner together. And then there had been his mother's warning, which he had discarded. His mother had told him that something was off about Hermione, that she got the feeling that his fiancée was already planning ahead. Maybe his mother had been on to something. Maybe Hermione had more cunning that he had given her credit for.

Draco turned around, trying to find a comfortable spot. He racked his brain to recall everything he knew about how the marriage law got passed. It wasn't common knowledge but no one on their side had thought of such a ludicrous proposal until after Granger had stormed into a private meeting of his father and his associates. She had demanded that they stop advocating the idea, and it was all they could do not to thank her then and there for such a brilliant idea. His father had laughed when he recounted the story, saying that he didn't know who started that rumor but he was grateful that the silly witch had taken it upon herself to share it with them. Looking back, Draco wondered if it had been Hermione's intent all along to sow the idea amongst his father and his associates.

Flint also claimed that Granger was responsible for the content of the speech Potter was supposed to give. Draco remembered those words well. They had been full of innuendoes and had driven his father to support the marriage law in earnest. He frowned. Now that he thought about it, if she had been able to manage her friend so well during their dinner together, it was entirely possible that she had arranged for him to rant and rave at the podium in the first place. The more he thought about it, the more it appeared that Flint's theory had merit. Hermione was the first person that he knew of who mentioned the concept of a marriage law. After that, she had frightened the older pure-bloods enough to make them support it and later joined forces with them, on the condition that a right of refusal be given to witches.

All those events now seemed to be a little too coordinated, and Hermione was always at the center of those events. _What if Flint is right about everything?_ he thought. _About her getting Bell to tell Flint no. The whole reason why I had decided to blackmail her into marrying me in the first place was because I didn't want to share Flint's fate._

This theory was beginning to get frightening. If she had been pulling the strings all along to get the law passed, then it couldn't be mere chance that he had happened upon that information about her. She would have planted it, then sat back and waited for him to react. Which meant that she had wanted to marry him. Draco frowned grimly. He bet that he reacted just as she planned when he threatened to expose her secret if she didn't agree to marry him. It was mind-boggling when he thought of all the work that it must have taken to think up such an elaborate plan and carry through with it.

_But why go through so much trouble? Maybe she was in love with me all along?_ he wondered. _No. I don't think so. For all appearances, she thought I was worthless back in school. I know that. There must be another reason why._ He racked his brain to come up with an explanation for why she had gone to so much trouble to get him to propose to her. He didn't like the most obvious explanation that came to mind. It didn't have good implications for either him or his family.

That was when he realized he was approaching things from the wrong way. He was trying to figure out why any Gryffindor go as far as she did. But if she were as cunning and manipulative as any Slytherin, then her reasons must be the same as a Slytherin's. If there were any Muggle-borns in Slytherin with excellent connections in the current government, then they too would aspire to marry a rich pure-blood on the other side. Just as he wanted to marry her to use her standing to improve his family's name, she must have wanted to marry him in order to gain access to his connections and his fortune. But somehow that didn't seem enough, not for all the work that she had done. He personally wouldn't have bothered. He would have found an easier mark, but then Granger had always been more diligent than he.

And more ambitious.

His heart dropped to his stomach as he wrestled with the sudden conclusion his inner Slytherin whispered to him. There was only one thing that would be worth that much effort, but most wouldn't ever think it possible. Ambition, however, had always driven Hermione Granger. She wanted to be the best. That drove her to the top of her class. She also wanted to be recognized for being the best. She wouldn't ever get that unless she somehow changed the Wizarding World.

And to do that, she needed to rule it.

It was an insane idea, a ludicrous idea. But it was the only one that remained when he assembled all the pieces of the puzzle. Hermione Granger was a manipulative witch who knew how to pull her friends' strings. When you combined that with her connections to the Minister and others currently in power, she herself held much influence, though it was behind the scenes. If she had access to his fortune and his connections, then there was nothing that she couldn't do. She would be able to silently take over the Wizarding World and mold it to suit her. That fit perfectly with everything Draco knew. It simply had to be it. It simply had to be the reason why she had lured him into such a sweetly baited marriage trap.

He broke out into a cold sweat. His first instinct was to run away. He didn't know what Granger's plans were or how he fit into them. All he knew was that all she needed was his money and his connections, and she would get those simply by marrying him. After the marriage she might decide she didn't need him any more. _She might have already decided that_, he amended. It was a chilling prospect. His insides churned as he thought of all the ways she could do away with him if she chose.

Running away _really _sounded good right now. It wouldn't take that long to get packed, and he could be gone before she knew it.

But no, he wasn't going to do that.

He had promised himself after the war that he would never be put in the position again where he was scared, powerless, and unable to control his own fate. _Never_. If he ran away now, that was exactly the position he would be putting himself in. He would be powerless and friendless and just waiting for Granger to find him and extract her revenge upon him. And that was unacceptable. He simply would not do it.

Particularly not when he thought of the advantages for him if he could convince Granger to share her quest for power with him.

He felt a smirk tug at his lips as he considered the possibilities. Granger had chosen him out of all the pure-bloods as the best candidate for her husband. That was heady stuff. She had judged his connections and his fortune to be the best, even after his family had fallen from society's good graces. Perhaps she had been counting on the Malfoy name to regain its clout after their betrothal was announced.

Draco could see a way out of this that would benefit both of them. He could approach her and convince her that he could be useful to her in other ways. Surely just arranging for the marriage law and for his trap must have been exhausting. It would take less effort on her part to rule the world if she had a partner to help her out, and who better for that role than the man she had picked for her husband. Draco held no illusions. She would demand in return that he give up all aspirations of upholding pure-blood superiority. He had no problem with that.

No problem at all.

It had rankled Draco how everyone else had looked down upon them after the war. Pure-bloods who weren't Death Eaters but who still thought that they were better than halfbloods and Muggle-borns avoided his family as though they had the dragon pox. No, he would be more than willing to cooperate with Hermione when it came to taking them all down. In fact, he would enjoy it.

The more he thought about it, the more enamored he became of the idea. He whole-heartedly approved of the way Hermione was going about accumulating power. Rather than being the figurehead, she worked behind the scenes. That dovetailed nicely with his own need for security. He had learned all too well that power meant nothing if you couldn't be secure in your own home. By ruling from the shadows, the natural targets of any dissidents would be Hermione's puppets like Potter. Their own family would be safe.

However, he couldn't just approach Hermione with the proposition that they work together. _No,_ he thought_, that won't work. If I came up and made that suggestion…she would be horrified that anyone found out about her plans. She would Obliviate me at best, and I don't want to think about what she would do at worst._ He would have to take another approach.

He would have to show to Hermione just how useful he could be when he put his mind to it. He wasn't like the other wizards she knew. He was clever and cunning. Draco thought the first thing he would do would to be to intercede with his mother on Hermione's behalf. His mother wouldn't like it, but he knew that his witch would never agree to share her power with him so long as she felt threatened by his mother. His mother would just have to live with the fact that she was no longer the most important woman in his life.

He could help her in her professional life as well. Draco had heard about Hermione's fights with her boss over her research and the like. He thought that he could make inroads for her with her boss. And that was only the beginning. Draco was positive that there were many other ways he could make life easier for his witch.

But that wasn't enough. It was a good start, and certainly he would be able to present a solid case to her. Hermione would appreciate a rational argument, he felt. But it wasn't enough to approach her with. Draco had to make sure that when he put his offer to her, his offer that their union be complete in all ways, that she wouldn't turn her wand on him. He had seen her ability at dueling this evening. He didn't want to take her on. At least not that way. There was another way he could take her on, one that would be most pleasurable for them both.

Draco could feel himself growing excited over this new thought. He could seduce Hermione. He could make her fall in love with him. He doubted that she had ever been the target of a skillful seduction ever before. Certainly Weasley wouldn't be capable of such a thing. His stomach turned just thinking about that. No, if Hermione had any experience in seduction, it was with her as the instigator. She was probably used to being treated as just one of the boys, or maybe as a nagging older sister.

No, his witch had probably never been the target of soft caresses and lingering touches. She had probably never been treated the way a lady should, been told that she looked absolutely stunning, been praised the way she deserved. If she had ever had a candlelit dinner, it would be one that she had planned on her own, instead one sprung on her by a sweet and charming lover. Draco knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she had never been the focus of interest by a wizard as handsome as he. If he played his cards right, she wouldn't know what hit her.

That was the best plan of all. Show her how useful he could be. Show her how he could help her, how he could make life easier for her. And at the same time, make her want him, need him much so that she couldn't possibly bear to tell him no. If he could get her to love him and if he could prove to her that he would be the best possible ally, then there was no way she would turn him down. She was, after all, a sensible witch. Why would she say no when he was offering her everything she ever wanted and more?

That was exactly what he would do. He silently congratulated himself for coming up with a most elegant solution before turning to take care of a more immediate need at hand.

* * *

Hermione shifted in her seat as she tried to find a comfortable spot. The chairs in the reception room to the Minister of Magic's office were hard and bumpy. She sighed as she checked the time. It was still ten minutes before her appointment with Kingsley. She shifted again in her seat and wondered if anyone would say anything to her if she elected to sit on the floor.

Time crawled by as she waited impatiently for her appointment. She only hoped that there weren't any emergencies requiring Kingsley's attention for then she might wind up waiting the entire day. Luck was with her, however. After fifteen minutes had passed, the door to the Minister's office swung open and Kingsley appeared.

"Hello Hermione," he greeted her warmly. She eagerly sprung to her feet, happy to finally be out of that most uncomfortable seat. "I was wondering if you would still make it in today, after the events of last evening. Please do come in." He motioned for her to enter his office, and she did. He entered after her and closed the door behind him.

"Thank you," she said. "And of course, I'm here. I'm afraid I have a favor to ask that I can't put off any longer, and I didn't think you would appreciate it if I disturbed you in the middle of the night again."

"If a matter is truly urgent, then I do hope you'll bring it to my attention straight away." He crossed over to his desk and sat down. Hermione followed his lead and took one of the seats on the other side of his desk. "So what is it that you wish to speak to me about? Is it more of the same thing as last night?" he asked. "I do promise to do my best to be fair, but being only human, I will have occasional lapses."

"Of course," said Hermione. "It's hard to simply choose to put aside your own opinions and biases. But no, that isn't why I'm here. It's about Hogwarts, actually."

Kingsley leaned forward in his seat. "Hogwarts?" he asked.

"Yes. You must have heard by now how difficult it is to find anyone who is willing to take on the Defense Against the Dark Arts position, much less someone who is actually qualified to teach it," she said.

"Yes, yes." He leaned back in his seat and regarded her critically. "Let me guess. Minerva requested that you ask me if I have any Aurors that I can spare."

Hermione flushed. "Well, more or less yes." She paused but when he said nothing, she went on with her explanation. "I suggested to her that an Auror would be a good fit as a professor for that subject. I know they're busy, Kingsley, you don't have to remind me of that, and that there's been a moratorium on leaving the Aurors. But things will never get better for them unless you're able to recruit new wizards and witches into the fold."

"Yes, I agree," said Kingsley. "Have you any particular Auror in mind? As it appears that you've done more than just think about this topic."

Hermione's face turned even redder. "Is it that obvious?" she asked.

He chuckled. "Hermione Granger, you have never been the type of witch just to think about doing something. You tend to go out and get the job done. It's rather refreshing, actually. It does get tiring to be surrounded by people who aren't willing to take a risk and make a decision on their own." He reclined back in his seat and sighed, absently folding his hands in front of him. "That being said, I do wish that you had brought this to my attention before now."

"Yes, I understand. But I know how busy you are, so I didn't want to add to your schedule."

"The thought is appreciated. So who is the Auror that you've been looking at?"

"I was going to ask if you would let Gaspar Landale retire from the Aurors so that he may teach at Hogwarts."

"I see. Harry's old trainer, if I'm not mistaken." Kingsley mulled over her suggestion. "A very good choice. He's probably who I would have recommended myself if you had seen me sooner. Does he have enough time to prepare to teach for the entire year?"

Hermione winced, recognizing the hidden rebuke. If she had come to Kingsley straight away rather than waiting, they could have resolved this issue shortly after Minerva had brought it to her attention. "I think he does," she said. "I'm positive that Minerva and the rest of the staff will be willing to help him in any way they can." She paused to consider her next few words. "I am certain that there will be more positions to fill next summer. Hopefully replacements can be found more quickly next year."

"Very good," said Kingsley. "Is that all?"

Hermione nodded her head.

"Then let's end our meeting early. That way I can head on over to Auror headquarters so I can get the proper paperwork started on getting Gaspar released." He stood up as did Hermione. The two of them walked out of the room, conversing with each other about old times. Once outside of his office, however, they were immediately stopped by his receptionist before they could leave.

"Sir," she said urgently. "The Aurors request your presence immediately as there's been an emergency."

"An emergency?" he asked. Hermione listened in, wondering what would have happened.

"Yes." The receptionist looked nervously at Hermione and then back at the Minister.

"Go on," said Kingsley. "You can say what it is in front of Hermione Granger. She is most trustworthy, I assure you."

The receptionist colored a little bit, embarrassed at not recognizing the famous witch, but recovered enough to go on. "Yes sir. An accident has occurred at Azkaban. The Aurors have cordoned off the scene and are currently investigating. However because the prisoner they were transporting, Marcus Flint, was killed, they request your presence there."

Hermione gasped at the news. _Flint dead? _she thought. _But how?_

Meanwhile, Kingsley's shoulders had gone stiff upon learning the nature of the emergency. "I see. Very well. Please cancel my appointments for the rest of the day. Let everyone else know that I will be out of the office." He turned to face Hermione. "It appears that I have something else to sort out at the moment. Please let Minerva know not to worry, that she'll have her professor by the end of the week." Hermione nodded and he left.

Her thoughts were still in turmoil as she returned to her office in the Department of Mysteries. It was incredible how fast everything had happened. Yesterday afternoon, everything had been going perfectly for her. Then last evening, she had been attacked by Flint. She had had to storm the Ministry afterwards to get Draco and Nott out of the Aurors' clutches. And now this afternoon, Flint was dead. She gulped nervously. What would have happened if she hadn't been able to get Draco out?

That was a horrifying thought.

Hermione took several deep breaths, trying to calm down as her heart raced with emotion. That didn't happen. She had got Draco out in time. Clearly there was something else afoot in the Ministry. Someone had it out for former Death Eaters and their relatives. She had caught traces of such hatred before, but she had never bothered to hunt down the source as it really had nothing to do with her.

That was no longer true. Clearly if they had taken aim at Flint, they would take aim at Draco. And she would not let them do that. She had worked too hard to secure Malfoy just to let him fall to a bunch of hate-crazed fanatics. No, she would track them down and then make sure they weren't able to hurt anyone that was hers.

That was when another thought occurred to her.

_Katie._

Hermione's heart fell as she remembered her friend. Katie was going to be crushed. This news was going to destroy her.

Hermione rushed over to her friend's flat after she got off from work. She hadn't seen the evening _Prophet_, but she wanted to check on Katie just in case the news had made it out in time for publication. Hermione anxiously waited after knocking on Katie's door, hoping against hope that Flint's death hadn't been made public yet.

She got her answer when her friend opened her door. One look at Katie was all it took.

"Oh Katie," Hermione said as she stepped inside, closing the door before she gave the other witch a hug. "You heard?"

Katie nodded. "Yes. It's been all over the news, and I've already had one reporter stop by to ask what I thought about it."

"I hoped you chased that idiot away," Hermione muttered.

"Yes," said Katie. "They've been around all day, actually."

"Bunch of vultures, that's what they are. They have no sensitivity at all." Hermione looked over her friend. "Come on. Let's get to your living room. A spot of tea also seems to be in order." The two of them walked to the living room, where Hermione left Katie with a full box of tissue so she could make a pot of tea in Katie's kitchen. Having been in her friend's flat many times, she knew where everything was. Ten minutes later, she returned to the living room, a tray floating behind her carrying a pot of tea, two mugs, and a packet of biscuits. She sat down next to Katie and then waved her wand to have the tray land on the table before them. Katie broke out into a fresh set of tears as she watched the tray settle down.

Hermione sighed. She wished she knew what she could do to make her friend feel better. She hugged Katie again, letting the other witch cry freely on her shoulder, as she awkwardly patted her friend on the back. "There, there," Hermione said comfortingly. "Let it all out." Hermione continued to do her best to console her friend as she waited for Katie's current burst of tears to pass. Katie gradually calmed down, and her tears slowed to a trickle. Hermione handed Katie a tissue so she could blow her nose. Katie went through several more, and Hermione wound up casting a charm so the used ones would just throw themselves away.

"Are you feeling a little better now?" Hermione asked. She knew better than to ask Katie if she was all right, when clearly the other witch would need more time to get over Flint's death. Unfortunately, Katie's reaction was to collapse back into tears once more, this time leaning on the side of the couch as she covered her face with her hands.

Once again Hermione found herself at a loss for words. There wasn't anything she could say to take away her friend's grief. All she could do was stay here and try to console Katie as best she could. She didn't often feel inadequate to a task, but this was one of those times. "I'm sorry," she said, feeling the sudden, inexplicable urge to apologize. She felt guilty over her role in causing her friend's grief. If it hadn't been for Hermione, Katie probably would have already been happily married by now.

"Why are you sorry?" mumbled Katie. She lifted her tear-stained face to gaze at Hermione. "You have nothing to be sorry about. You've done nothing wrong. You've only done what you thought was best. If anyone should apologize, it's me."

"You?" Hermione cocked her head to one side. "Katie, what are you talking about?" She couldn't imagine what her friend could be feeling guilty about. She was completely an innocent party in this.

"Yes, me. I should have done more," she said, her words tumbling out in a rush. "So much more. I knew, you see."

Hermione's heart leaped up into her throat. "Hang on," she said as a feeling of dread made its way down to her stomach. "Do you mean to say that you knew he was planning an attack last night?" She hoped that she had heard her friend wrong. She hoped that Katie really hadn't been involved in any of that.

"No, no," said Katie. She shook her head from side to side. "Nothing like that. I didn't know what he had planned. But you see, I should have known. I knew how much he hated you, how much he despised you. But I never warned you, and I should have."

Hermione moved closer to her friend. "Oh Katie. I knew that he hated me. I guess I was a scapegoat for him." She sighed. "Transference, you know. He couldn't bring himself to hate you so he hated me instead. No one could have known that he planned to act on that hate."

"Oh no. That's not it at all," said Katie. "You see, he knew."

"Knew what?" Her friend wasn't making any sense, and she briefly wondered if the stress was too much for Katie. _Be nice_, she told herself. _Katie's having a hard time as it is, trying to get out what she wants to say. No need to get all snarky on her, even though it is getting a tad frustrating trying to figure out what she's trying to say._

"He _knew_," Katie repeated, and Hermione had to grit her teeth to keep herself from saying something she shouldn't. "All this time he knew that it was you who talked me out of marrying him. I tried to convince him otherwise, but the more I denied you had anything to do with it, the more he believed you did."

Hermione was silent for a moment. She had no idea that was the source of Flint's resentment towards her. She had thought it something more mundane. "How did he know?" she asked quietly.

"He had flooed me to make sure that I got his offer," Katie explained. "I disconnected once I went to answer the door, but he later on he said that he saw that you were as our connection was shutting off." She wrung her hands. "I'm so sorry, Hermione. I knew he hated you, I knew that he thought you were ultimately responsible for his embarrassment. I tried everything I could to get him to hate me instead because that's who he should hate. Me. Because ultimately it was my decision. But nothing I said ever worked."

"You have nothing to apologize for," Hermione said as she went through the motions of continuing to comfort her friend. However her mind was pulling apart Katie's revelation and all that it entailed. If Flint had known that she had been responsible for Katie's refusal, what else could he have found out? Could he have figured out how she had carefully orchestrated the passage of the marriage law?

A wave of relief washed down Hermione's back. Whatever Flint had known, he had taken that knowledge with him to the grave. His attack at the theatre had clearly been a move of desperation. If he had known anything more about her plans and had shared such knowledge, then he wouldn't have been all alone last night, trying to take on four wizards. She sighed. It was a relief that he was gone and he could do her no harm.

Then her heart fell as she was flooded with guilt all over again. How could she feel relief at Flint being dead, when her dear friend was so broken up over him? It wasn't right for her to be relieved at something that was hurting Katie so much. Especially since she should have done more to prevent this from happening. She had known that Flint had hated her. She should have asked Katie if she knew the source of Flint's hate and then maybe have Obliviated Flint to forget what he knew. Maybe then things would not have turned out this way.

But no, that wasn't going far enough. She had to go back farther, back to her original plot to get Malfoy. She had been so overjoyed when she had first made her plans that she hadn't stopped to think what sort of pain it would cause Katie to tell Flint no. She assumed that the two of them weren't really in love and Katie would get over the wizard fairly quickly. Hermione had been wrong. She shouldn't have made that assumption. More than that, she should have looked at alternatives, to see if there was a way she could get what she wanted without harming her friend. But she hadn't done that. She had been thrilled with finally finding a way to trap Malfoy into marriage and she hadn't bothered to stop and think if there was another way she could have what she wanted without ruining Katie's relationship.

As Hermione continued to comfort her friend, she vowed to do better. The next time she would stop and take the time to think of alternative plans. There had to have been another way back then, but it was too late to do anything about it now. All she could do was not to make the same mistake in the future. She would also be more vigilant when it came to covering her tracks. It was hard work, especially for one person, but she had to do it. If anyone was up to that task, it was her.

Hermione convinced her friend to have a bite to eat. She then told Katie to go sleep, knowing how exhausted the other witch must be from her storm of emotion. Hermione cleaned up the kitchen and the rest of the flat. She wanted to stay longer to ensure that Katie was all right and safely asleep. Finally she felt comfortable enough to leave but there was one more thing she wanted to do. After leaving the flat, she sought out the reporters that were still lurking near Katie's flat, just waiting for the other witch to make an appearance. She told them herself that Katie had no idea that Flint had planned an attack, and that she personally believed her friend. She then suggested that they go away before they became nuisances and the authorities had to be called in. Thankfully every single one of them got the hint and left shortly after. Once that was done, Hermione returned home.

* * *

He smirked slightly as he watched the chaos surrounding him. He had done well in organizing it, shouting orders at his subordinates until they didn't know up from down and making certain to work everyone into a frenzy before the Minister arrived. He knew better than to hope that he would be able to hide the bastard's death from Shacklebolt. Of course the Minister would be brought in for something like this and so he had taken the appropriate countermeasures.

Yes, he had done a good job. He only hoped that the _Daily Prophet_ would be full of stories of how Flint's parents were mourning him. They deserved it. Their son had deserved his death, and they deserved to know that their son had wound up paying for their sins. He hoped there was a large spread on the front page detailing the Flint's grief over the loss of their son. He would exult in their pain, pain that they had long deserved for inflicting it on others.

Givens' only regret was that he hadn't acted sooner. If he had, he would have had Malfoy Junior and Nott Junior to add to the carnage. There was nothing he could do about that now. He would have to wait for his next chance. But when that came, nothing would stop him from extracting his revenge.

* * *

**Author's note:** Thanks so much for reading this far. This fic is now half over in terms of plot. In terms of length, who knows? I might get more verbose once I actually get D/Hr together. ;) As always, I would love it if you left me a review.

Finally, my thanks goes out to everyone who left me a review for the last chapter: rah-rah8, inadaze22, Dame Brittany, Snowe, Select Another, maggie2224, misssweetsweet, oneamsoundstage, Sinfully Sined, mlui, Chanteur d'ombre, Akashia, Shandi Luaine, shat, Jaid Ziaen, dynonugget, SerenaLupin-Potter, RememberMe2, and karaburnes.


	16. The Stage Is Set

**Ambition's End: The Stage Is Set  
**

**Disclaimer:** None of these characters are mine as they all belong to JKR.

* * *

Dinner was a subdued affair at Malfoy Manor that evening. Draco had skipped breakfast, having been too exhausted from the events of the night before to bother with the meal, and he had wound up eating lunch in his office. He hadn't really wanted to go to work at all today as he was that tired. Yet he knew that rumors were probably already going around about just what had happened last evening. The best way to put a stop to any nasty rumor going around about him still being locked up was to put in an appearance at company headquarters. That was exactly what he had done. He was glad that he did. He had interrupted a bevy of gossips when he had arrived, and from the looks on their faces, they hadn't expected to see him for awhile.

When he had arrived home that evening, his first instinct was to return to his room so he could get some much needed rest. However he had hardly spoken to either of his parents that day. He knew that they must be worried. Draco somehow managed to drag himself to the dinner table, and he was currently poking at his plate, moving the peas around as he did his best to avoid eating them.

"It appears that you are not hungry, Draco. You may leave the table and return to your room if that is what you wish," his mother said, ending the silence that had settled uneasily over the three of them. "Although that would be such a pity. I had all your favorites prepared for pudding tonight."

Those words made Draco see red. "I'm not a child any more, Mother," he told her harshly. "So I would appreciate it if you would stop treating me like one."

"If you want to stop being treated like a child, then you should stop acting like one," she replied evenly. "I thought that you had outgrown your bad habit of playing with your food like that. That's what children do, darling. Personally I never bother to take anything that I dislike. I always find a way to avoid having to do so."

Draco frowned. He was beginning to get tired of these endless lectures by his mother on how he should act. At first he had appreciated her intervention. If it hadn't been for her, he wouldn't have seen all the mistakes that he had made. But more and more, she was going too far as though she wanted to run his life.

He wasn't going to let that happen. While he loved both of his parents, they had done enough already to ruin his life. It was past time to let his mother know that he was taking charge of his destiny, and she couldn't control him. Her advice would be listened to so long as it was presented as such. He was through with being nagged by her into doing what she wanted. No, if anything, he was going to make sure that she did what he wanted. And he was going to make that clear to her right now.

"Mother, have you finalized our guest list yet?" he asked. "I know that Hermione has put off sending out the invitations because she doesn't have that yet."

"I'm so glad you brought that up, dear. It's getting to be rather embarrassing how long it's taking to get those invitations sent out. Tell me, have you made any progress with getting her to make the wedding a respectable size? I'm getting tired of having to field questions from my acquaintances about who we will ask to attend."

Draco glared at his mother. "Do you mean to say that you haven't trimmed the list down at all?"

She waved a hand lazily in the air. "Oh I did try, Draco, but it's literally impossible. I simply cannot bear to leave any more of my friends off of it."

"Fine," he said pleasantly. "Give it to me. I'll cut it in half myself."

His mother gasped. "Draco! Don't joke like that! It's not funny at all."

"Who said anything about joking? If you're unable to trim the list like my fiancée and I have requested, then there is nothing left but for me to do it myself." He smirked as he thought of something that would upset her even more. "Actually, I should do it myself regardless of that. It's likely that you've left off some people that I want to invite. I don't suppose you've included Blaise Zabini on it, have you?"

Narcissa Malfoy's jaw hung open. She took several deep breaths to compose herself before speaking again. "Zabini? You simply cannot be serious! Not with his mother." She wrinkled her nose in disgust over that thought.

"Oh, I am perfectly serious. Zabini's the only one in my year employed by the Ministry, and as an Auror no less. I can't believe that you would leave him off our guest list for such a tired, old reason as that."

His mother proceeded to roll her eyes and then turned her head, so she was looking at his father. "Lucius! Talk some sense into your son!" she commanded his father stridently. "I cannot deal with him and his nonsense right now."

"On the contrary, Cissa dear, I find myself agreeing with the boy," his father replied calmly. "It makes perfect sense to invite young Zabini. He has done very well for himself, given the prejudice that has settled over the world in regards to Slytherins." His father's gaze settled on him. "I take it that your Miss Granger is also recovered from the events of last evening." It was more of a statement than a question.

"Yes, she has," Draco replied. He hadn't spoken with Hermione at all today, as he wanted some time to put together his plan of attack better, but he had no doubt that was true.

"When you thank you, please convey our gratitude as well," his father said, not missing a beat. Draco winced. With his father acting as a shadow of his former self ever since their side lost the war, he had forgotten how sharp the elder Malfoy was when it came to reading people. Draco didn't know what had spurred his father to take his side, but he wasn't going to question such luck. He had other things to concentrate on. He was more than willing to let his father deal with his mother as that would allow him more time to focus on getting Hermione to fall in love with him.

* * *

His wife was like his son in that it was always easy to tell when something had upset the two of them. Perhaps outsiders thought that Cissa and their son was hard to read, but not for him. No, he could tell when Draco was upset from the stiffness in his shoulders and the way his son would tilt his head back and forth. Lucius could tell when Cissa was upset from the slight twitching of her mouth that she evidently just couldn't control. Of course, the fact that she wasn't currently speaking to him was a hint that the most obtuse wizard in the world couldn't miss.

"I don't suppose you will share with me just how long you intend to go on ignoring me," he asked as he settled into bed beside her. Cissa merely sniffed and turned away from him. "Thank you for that all too generous reply, darling. You intend not to say another word to me for the rest of the evening. I understand you completely."

She huffed angrily at that. "If you understood me in the slightest, then you would know when to keep your mouth shut by now Lucius. Don't think that I'll forgive any time soon for what you've done, much less forget it."

"And what have I done to provoke your ire so?" he asked. He knew perfectly well that she was livid for him taking Draco's side instead of her own. However the only way he could get her to see the sense in him doing so was for them to have it out right now. Thankfully he was well accustomed to pushing her buttons to get the response he wanted.

"Leave it to you to have such little imagination," she replied. He couldn't see her but he knew from past experience she was rolling her eyes right now. Lucius felt a spurt of anger in his chest over those words. If he knew how to influence her emotions, then she also knew him well enough to pull his strings. He couldn't afford her to win this one, however. That was probably the root of their problems lately. He had let her win far too often, feeling ashamed that he had put both his beloved wife and his dear son into such danger during the war. That was most likely the ultimate source of her short temper these days. She had probably become tired of dealing with someone who was no challenge and therefore had moved on to trying to control their son's life.

Lucius smirked. Well Draco showed Narcissa tonight that she could not rule his life. He couldn't help but applaud his son's actions. His son resembled him in more ways than one. He was never the sort to let a witch rule his life either.

"It is not that my imagination isn't up to the task of envisioning why you're so upset," he said gently, "but rather it is coming up with too many plausible explanations. The most likely, I suppose, is that you didn't care for the way I allowed our son to overrule you this evening in regards to the plans for his wedding."

"Oh bravo! Good guess!" she replied, her voice laced with sarcasm. "Although for the life of me, I cannot see why you would think that I'm upset about you letting our son completely ruin all of my plans for his wedding!"

"Don't you think Draco should have a say in it?"

She didn't answer that.

He sighed and answered his own question for her, knowing all too well how his wife's mind worked. "Yes, but not more than you. Because you're better equipped than him to plan such a grand event and to decide who will be slighted when the invitations are sent out."

"It's more than that," she said abruptly. "I will have to deal with all those slighted allies of ours, not him. I simply cannot believe that he is doing this to me! How can he invite someone like Zabini when that means removing one of our long-standing allies?"

"None of our long-standing allies, as you put it, wanted much to do with us before Draco's betrothal was announced," Lucius pointed out. "You are well aware of that fact. Besides he has his reasons and very good ones at that."

"Does he now? Well let's hear it. What has he told you that he has held back from me?"

Lucius sighed again. Cissa was feeling impossible again. Once upon a time, he would have asked her bluntly if it was that time for her, but he knew better than that now. Experience had taught him that much at least. "He hasn't told me anything that he hasn't told you. I probably know less than you. I've not been interrogating him on regular basis the way you have. But Cissa—Draco is a man grown. His deciding on the Granger girl without consulting us in the slightest should have been your first hint about that. And now, if he decides to make his peace with his intended, then who are we to stop him?"

That got her to finally turn around and face him. Her eyes widened in horror as she took in what he had said. "You mean he is choosing _her_ side over mine?" she spat out in fury. "That ungrateful—"

"Enough." He reached out to cradle his wife's face with his hand. "That's enough, Cissa. It's time to let go. The longer you try to hold on to him, the more painful it will be for you."

She brushed his hand aside furiously and sat up. "Perhaps you as a Malfoy are willing to let our son join the ranks of Muggle lovers. We Blacks have been taught better though."

"Like Andromeda?"

"Don't mention that name to me!"

Impossible, perhaps, was too kind of a description for his wife at the moment. Maybe bloody infuriating was closer to the truth. "Are you going to disown your son now, Cissa? As that is how a Black should react to her son marrying a Muggle."

She let out a soft cry, and he knew he had her there. Her hands trembled as they clutched at the sheets. "Yes, that is what a Black should do," she said in a very small voice. "It is completely unacceptable for a Black to even contemplate such a thing."

"And yet you love him to much to take that step. I for one have no such intentions. How could I? Not when I was so pleased to see the marriage law passed as it gave us a chance to regain our former standing in society. No Malfoy has ever settled for being powerless. If we must dilute the purity of our blood line to ensure that we remain amongst the ranks of the strong, then that is what we will do. That was what Draco had in mind when he made his choice. I do not know how he managed it, but he secured the witch that could do the most for our family name.

"It is not only that, Cissa. Think about it. Think about how he always rattled on about her when they were in school. He could never stop talking about her, marking her as his equal. Frankly if it weren't for her unfortunate blood status, we would have sought out the girl's parents the summer after his first year to see if we could come to an agreement. You know that."

She closed her eyes as she considered his words. "Yes, I do." She sighed.

"They would be more powerful if they acted in concert. Draco's a clever lad. The only thing surprising about his actions this evening is that it has taken him this long to choose this path."

"I know but—I can't believe I'm going to lose my son to a dirty Mudblood!" she wailed.

A wry smile crossed his lips. "Don't think of it as losing a son, Cissa, but as gaining a daughter."

She whipped her head around to glare furiously at him. "Don't you mock me, Lucius."

"Yes dear."

"Or patronize me for that matter."

"Of course dear." He could have gone on like this for ages, but he decided it was time to stop. He didn't really want to upset his wife further, especially as he could see her mouth twitching in anger. She could be a formidable opponent when she wanted to be, and no one could make him as miserable as her. Draco was wise for figuring that out while he was still so young. It had taken Lucius several years before he had realized that he was happiest when he and Cissa weren't fighting.

"You may be losing your son to Granger," he said soothingly. "But what of it? There were countless times that I feared we had lost him forever. We have no right to rule his life, not when we placed it in jeopardy so many times before."

"You mean, you and your choices placed it in jeopardy. I would have taken a more circuitous route of supporting pure-blood supremacy."

"I know. I remember your suggestions," said Lucius. "I wish I had listened to you then, but I was a young fool. I thought that witches were weak and foolish and should be seen and not heard."

"I remember that. You were an absolute barbarian." She smiled as she recalled those earlier times. "I was always so frustrated with how you pushed me aside."

"I know, darling. But that's also why I am happy that my son won't be making the same mistakes that I had."

Her face scrunched up in a pout. "Yes but—did it have to be her?"

"Out of all the Muggle-borns out there, there is no one more worthy of our son. You might not like her, but make your peace with her now, Cissa. If you continue to fight with her, if you continue to expect Draco to heed all your commands, then you're only going to make things worse for you."

She didn't reply. He watched her as she remained perched on the edge of their bed, hanging her head as though in defeat. It seemed like ages later when she finally laid back down again next to him. She curled up next to him, her head gently resting on his chest. He knew that he made her see the light. She didn't like the decision Draco had made for her, but she would accept it. She was too good a mother to be able to say good bye to her only child, and she would respect his choice, as much as it hurt her to do so.

"So you really think Draco is trying to get on her good side?" she asked quietly.

"Yes, my love."

"It is good." She sighed, and he could feel her trembling against him. "He will be stronger for it. I know her reputation. She is nothing if not thorough, and the balance will be good for him." She sighed again. "I just—"

"Wish that it were someone else?"

"Well, that too. But it's nothing. I won't wish for this betrothal to somehow fall apart. Not when I know what it has brought us." She shuddered. "And not when I am so very relieved that she got him released before what happened to Flint could happen to him. I do _not_ like her. But for saving my son like that—I can forgive anything."

* * *

Draco looked up from his desk when he heard someone rapping at his door. "Yes?" he said.

His secretary pushed the door open. "I'm sorry to disturb you, Mr. Malfoy, but Mr. Nott is here to see you."

Draco sat up straight in his chair. "Please send him in," he said. He had owled Theo earlier that morning asking if the wedding was still on for tomorrow. He hadn't received a reply back yet. He was surprised that Theo had decided to deliver his answer in person.

"Hello Theo," said Draco. He studied his friend's appearance as Theo walked into the room and sat down. "Normally from how haggard you look, I would surmise that yes the wedding is on tomorrow and the rehearsal is tonight but given what happened—"

Theo waved his hand at him, signaling for Draco to be quiet. "Yes, the wedding is still on," he said. He sighed. "I kind of wish that it wasn't because there's still so much to do, but yes it's on. Nadia insists on it, actually. Says that she doesn't want to find out what will happen to me if I don't get married on the exact date I said I was back when we registered our betrothal at the Ministry."

Draco's opinion of Nadia went up a notch. "I can't blame her, Theo. Seeing what happened to Flint, I can understand why she doesn't want to take any chances on the Ministry throwing you in prison again." He shuddered. No, he definitely did not blame Theo's witch for wanting to prevent that. He definitely didn't want Theo to share a fate similar to Flint's.

"Funny. She said the same thing. Tell me, did she owl you before I got here?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "No. Why would she?"

"Well, you see, there's a favor I've been sent to ask you."

"You've been sent to ask me?" Draco raised an eyebrow at Theo's choice of words. "Who sent you?"

"Nadia of course. She said that I was making a bloody nuisance of myself, and that she would be able to get the last minute details done faster herself if I weren't there to bother her. So she said if I wanted to make myself useful, then I had best go around to all my friends and start spreading the word that the wedding will be taking place tomorrow as scheduled. She doesn't want to do all this work only to find out that no one came because they all thought it was canceled." Theo sighed and slumped back in his seat. "I've already been to the church and the restaurant to make sure they know. I get exhausted just thinking about trying to contact everyone we've invited. If I had thought about it yesterday, I would have just taken out a full page in the _Prophet _for that express purpose."

"Need a hand?"

"Yes, thank you. Although not from you directly, I think."

"You want me to ask my mother, right?"

"Right again. If she could let all her society friends know, I would be eternally grateful."

Draco nodded his head. "I'll owl her to let her know right away. I'll also tell Hermione. She's my guest, of course, but more than that, I am certain she'll be willing to spread the news amongst her set."

"Thank you. That should cut the people I have to see in half at least."

Draco looked amusedly at his friend. "You could always just owl everyone, you know," he pointed out.

Theo rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry. I thought I made it clear that Nadia doesn't want me around so I can't just stay in and send out owls."

"You could stay here if you like."

"Thank you but no. It's exhausting, but at the same time, I just can't sit still. Going in person is better." He stood up.

"Have it your way then. See you tomorrow," Draco said.

* * *

Ever since she had learned of Flint's fate, Hermione had been owling Harry and Ron, pressing them to give her the details. She hadn't received any response until late Friday afternoon when Harry had penned a quick note to her asking that she meet him at Grimmauld Place after work. That was unlike them, not to answer to her inquiry sooner, and it spoke volumes to how busy their department had become.

She left promptly at five to go over to Harry's place only to discover that no one else was there. The wards were set up to recognize her though, as she had helped Harry put them up, and so she was able to get inside to wait for them. She surmised that both her boys had to work late, given the state of chaos that had ruled the Aurors these last few days. Not knowing when they would be in, she took the initiative and made dinner for them of roast chicken, jacket potatoes, and a salad that she would have to nag them into eating. Kreacher had protested of course, but Hermione found it very hard simply to sit and wait. She much preferred to do something useful while waiting, even if it was something that someone else could have easily done.

Harry and Ron finally arrived shortly before the chicken was ready to come out of the oven. The two of them looked famished, as though they hadn't eaten a real meal for the last couple of days. They fell to devouring everything she placed in front of them, even the salad. After dinner the trio had retreated to the living room. Ron had immediately claimed the larger sofa and laid down on it. Harry collapsed into a cushy armchair near the fireplace, while she sat down on the smaller sofa.

"The two of you look exhausted." Hermione examined her best friends critically. Both Harry and Ron looked as though they would pass out at any minute.

"Really? Funny that. That's how I feel, you see," Harry remarked as he slipped further down in his chair.

Hermione bit her lip. She didn't want to start interrogating her friends about what they knew, not when they looked so tired, despite that being the reason why she had come over in the first place. She decided just to ask a general question about work and let them decide whether they wanted to talk about this whole fiasco or not. "You've been working late the last two nights, haven't you? I don't suppose today will be the last of it."

Ron groaned, and Harry covered his face with his hands. "I wish," said Ron. "Sometimes I wonder if it would have been better just for me to help George with the shop. Mum would have been happy about that too, you know. She worries about George all the time, and she doesn't really want him to be left alone."

Harry snorted. "If you're waiting for an apology for me for leading you astray and into the ranks of Aurors, don't hold your breath. You won't get one."

"Did I ask for one?" Ron snapped.

"No, but it did sound like you were fishing for one," Harry retorted.

"Excuse me, but not all of us want apologies for everything that's gone wrong in our lives."

"That's enough," said Hermione firmly, determined to nip this quarrel in the bud. "Come on, you two. I know you're both irritated because you're tired, but let's not fight now. That will just make you even more tired, and you'll feel bad to boot." She glanced at each of her friends, pleading with them silently not to start a full-blown argument.

"Sorry Ron," said Harry. "Shouldn't have snapped at you like that."

"No, no. I shouldn't have said what I said either." Ron sighed. "I wasn't blaming you, though. I didn't become an Auror because of you, you see, but because I thought it would be fun, chasing after dark wizards and the like. I didn't know that most of the time it would be deathly dull, and the rest of the time it would be absolutely crazy. Why does everything have to happen at once!" he wailed.

"Can't say that I disagree with that," Harry muttered. Neither could Hermione. She knew all too well how it felt to have so many things to do at once, but she wasn't going to share that experience with her best friends. She had to keep that to herself because she didn't have anyone to trust with that confession. She loved her friends, but she knew them well. If she disclosed the full extent of her plans for the Wizarding World, they wouldn't support her. In fact, they might choose to oppose her and that would truly be disastrous. It was rather disheartening to know that she had condemned herself to such a lonely life, but if that was the price she had to pay, then so be it.

"Didn't think you would," said Ron. Hermione snapped to attention as her boys continued their conversation. "It is an absolute mess back at headquarters. Kingsley is demanding answers as to how we could let Flint die in what was supposed to be a routine transfer, and I swear Givens has us running around in circles."

"Is that so?" Hermione narrowed her eyes at Ron's choice of words.

"Dear Merlin," swore Ron. "Not you too!"

"Not me too what?" she asked.

"He"—Ron jabbed a finger in Harry's direction—"is overly paranoid and thinks that Givens has something to hide. I think he needs more sleep, that's what I think."

"Again, can't say I disagree with that. I do need more sleep. Still I think something's up with Givens," said Harry. "That's why I wanted to see you tonight, Hermione. Givens was livid when Malfoy and Nott walked out the way they did. Kingsley left shortly after you and Malfoy, but before that he took Givens aside to say a few words about the investigation. I never saw a man turn that shade of puce ever before. He sent his best interrogators into the holding cell and demanded they wring something out of Flint that would justify bringing Malfoy and Nott back in."

"They had no luck," Ron said, picking up telling the tale from Harry. "Can't say I like Flint. Scratch that. I bloody well detest him given what he tried to do to you the other night, Hermione. But a part of me has to respect him for not giving up Malfoy and Nott just to make things easier on himself. No, he insisted that he had acted alone and he stuck to that story, no matter what Givens threw at him."

"Of course that only made Givens more upset," said Harry.

"Well, yeah, of course. He doesn't like Malfoy or Nott. He still refers to them as junior Death Eaters, and I wager that he wants to catch them more than their parents." Ron shrugged. "Maybe it's because he figures that they can do more harm than any of the old guard."

"Who knows?" asked Harry. "I don't think it really matters."

"No, it probably doesn't. So in any case, the morning after he decides that he's had enough of trying to break Flint and to go ahead and turn him over to Azkaban. We all were relieved. We thought things would end soon after that. It got strange though. Givens handpicked a team of junior Aurors to help him escort Flint to Azkaban."

Hermione cocked her head to one side. "Were you part of that team?" she asked.

"Oh no," said Ron. "Neither me or Harry was."

"I would say no one competent was a part of that group. Givens chose the ones with the least experience to go with him. I said something, but all he did was to give me a dirty look and said that this would be a good learning opportunity for all of them. So I go home, and I don't hear anything else about the matter until I get an urgent owl summoning me back to duty."

"That's because you're the great Harry Potter. I hear more than you," said Ron.

"I know. Go on and tell Hermione what you know."

"All right then. Well evidently things were going smoothly. They got inside Azkaban without any incident, and they were just walking Flint to his cell. I guess Givens didn't want to take any chances about Flint somehow escaping. All of a sudden, Flint goes mad and starts shouting about Dementors. Sure enough, there's a whole pack of them headed towards the group so it's wands out for everyone. Can't be too careful around those foul creatures." Ron shuddered, and his friends did so too. "No one knows how it happened, but somewhere in all the confusion, Flint gets hit in the back with a massive stunning spell that propels him into a pillar, cracking his skull open. By the time the prison mediwizard had arrived, there was nothing he could do."

"I see," said Hermione. That was an awful way to go. It was convenient for her purposes that Flint was dead, but Hermione wish that hadn't had happened. If Flint was still alive, then there was the chance that she could make things up to Katie. Now she had no concept of how she would be able to do that. She sighed. She had to move forward. That was all anyone could ever do.

"It does seem dodgy, doesn't it? How Givens took a pack of green Aurors with him? It's as though he wanted Flint to get caught in the crossfire or something."

"And I think that Harry needs to work on getting his paranoia in check. Yeah, Givens was angry. But more at the fact that Malfoy and Nott got away. He thought he had a real solid case against the two of them too." Ron shrugged. "And I can see why he'd want to give the Aurors he picked more experience in field work. You wouldn't expect that transferring a prisoner to Azkaban would be all that dangerous."

"But if he really thought that Flint was a flight risk, he should have taken more experienced Aurors to prevent that from happening. The ones he took with him would probably just run about panicking if anything happened."

"That's probably what they did when that anything actually happened," said Hermione. She had to agree with Harry. It was too neat how Flint died like that. It was almost as though Givens didn't want to take the chance that Flint would somehow get released too.

"And this last day? Givens has been giddy," added Harry. "Like he's happy that Flint is dead."

"Well of course he is," said Ron. "He probably thinks that the elder Flints had it coming, seeing what he went through. Got a taste of their own medicine, they did." Both his friends whipped their heads to look at him. "What?" he asked, his mouth hanging open. "Don't tell me you don't know!"

"Obviously we don't, Ron, otherwise we wouldn't be wondering why Givens is so happy to see a prisoner in his care die," Hermione said, a little more sharply than she had intended.

"Oh right. Well, you see, his daughter was one of the casualties at the Battle of Hogwarts, that's all. Unfortunately, no one ever found out which bastard was responsible for the spell that ended her life. That's why he's still so determined to bring every last Death Eater to justice. A lot of us think that they got off easy—certainly I do, and I know you two do too—but just as many of us were tired of the fighting and the killing and losing the people you love. But Givens lost everything so I guess he wouldn't mind prolonging hostilities."

Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance. "And you still don't see how he might want Flint dead, even though you know that?" asked Harry.

"Oh, I know he wanted Flint dead. He wants all Death Eaters to be brought to justice. But no, I don't think he managed to arrange for them to stumble upon a group of Dementors. I don't think he would do that either, as that's mighty dangerous. Givens might have wished for Flint's death, but he would have never risked his Aurors like that," said Ron. "I've said it before and I'll say it again. I really do think this was just an accident."

Hermione twitched her nose. She wasn't going to be able to convince Ron of anything tonight. But no matter, she had the information that she needed. She agreed with Harry's assessment that Givens had somehow planned everything. She was happier than ever that she was able to get Draco and Theo out of there. She shuddered as she thought of how those two wizards could have shared Flint's fate.

Hermione wanted to continue the discussion but thought the better of it. Her boys were tired, and they had more than earned their rest. She was grateful that they took the time to answer her questions despite being so exhausted. Besides, she didn't want to start an argument between Ron and Harry and herself. She resolved to speak to Harry later and ask that he keep his eyes open. Harry did seem more accepting of Draco and even came to her fiancé's defense the other night. She thought he would be willing to let her know if Givens did anything else suspicious.

And if Givens was responsible, then Hermione would have to take care of him herself. Not out of revenge though—certainly she couldn't blame him for Flint's fate when it was she who had first set Flint upon his path. No, she would have to take care of him to keep Draco safe. He was too important for her not to. But if she was being completely honest with herself, she had grown fond of her fiancé these last two weeks and she rather thought that Draco deserved a better fate than that. Until he gave her reason to doubt him, she would do everything in her power to keep him safe.

* * *

**Author's note: **Thanks so much for reading. I hope you liked this chapter. Please review. It would really make my day. The next chapter, Waltz for the Moon, should be out next week, and that's when Draco gets to put his plan in motion. ;)

Finally I would like to thank celticscorpion, Ookami Otome, Snowe, mofo, misssweetsweet, Memories on Pause, kazfeist, inadaze22, nonentity, Dame Brittany, meggie2224, MagicalCatharsis, Shandi Luaine, mlui, PotterEntourage, Chanteur d'ombre, allycat1186, Pfirsich, dynonugget, HazelFromBehind, RememberMe2, karaburnes, fallincrystal, Blood57, oneamsoundstage, German Lady, shat, rah-rah8, starzstruck-1, and sugar n spice 522 for reviewing the last chapter. :D Thanks so so much. I really can't express how much I appreciate it. :D:D:D


	17. Waltz for the Moon

**Ambition's End: Waltz for the Moon  
**

**Disclaimer:** None of these characters are mine as they all belong to JKR.

* * *

"You look absolutely amazing," Draco said artlessly as Hermione stepped out the door. His eyes traveled up and down her figure. Sometimes he forgot how pretty his witch was. She wasn't a flashy tart nor was she a great beauty like some of the other witches he had dated. But she was easy on the eyes. Very easy. As his gaze lingered on how her robes clung tightly to her, hinting at curves but not revealing too much, he was grateful. It would be infinitely easier to seduce her if he was attracted to her naturally. He grinned to himself. He wouldn't have to fake his interest, not when she looked like that.

"Don't we have somewhere to be?" she asked him mischievously. Draco let his jaw drop momentarily to let her think that he had really been stunned by her appearance. Pleasantly surprised, yes, but not so stunned that he couldn't think straight.

"Yes that's right, darling," he said. He offered his hand to her with a flourish. "Shall we go?"

She arched an eyebrow at him. "I think you've forgotten where you're at. Come inside." She stepped aside and motioned for him to enter.

"Blast! That's right!" He snapped his fingers as he stepped across the threshold to emphasize his words. It was too bad that he was unable to blush on command. He suspected that his mother knew how to do that, but she had never bothered to share that technique with him. That would have been dead useful right about now, seeing how he wanted to make Hermione believe that he had been so taken in by her appearance that he had completely forgotten that she lived amongst Muggles. "Thank you for reminding me, Hermione, before I made a dreadful mistake."

"Don't mention it."

Draco reached into his robes and took out their invitation. "This acts as our portkey," he explained. He looked at the clock on the wall. "Let's see. It looks like it's supposed to activate in about a minute." He held it out in front of him so that it was between the two of them. Hermione nodded her head and reached out to hold on to its corner. A second later, the portkey activated and he felt that familiar tug that meant he was being transported through space.

Just like that, they were standing in the middle of small room that was connected to the church's atrium. He grasped Hermione's hand and led her outside to the atrium. It was already getting full, with Muggles coming in through the front door and wizards arriving via portkeys in the side room, which was bewitched so no Muggle would notice just how many people were stepping out of that rather small room. He looked around to see if there was anyone he knew. Draco caught sight of his parents and hesitated. His mother hadn't said much to him ever since their confrontation Thursday night, and he wasn't certain what sort of reception they would get from her. Before he could make a decision whether to say hello to his parents or not, Hermione was tugging at his hand.

"I've just spotted Padma. I want to go over and say hello. I've not seen much of her at work this week," she said.

"No surprise there," he noted dryly. "We both have been busy this week, haven't we?" He followed her lead, content to let her take charge for the moment.

She snorted. "For me, that's an understatement."

"Me too actually. You wouldn't believe how many places I've been just so people can see that I'm alive and not in prison." He paused. "I don't believe I thanked you yet for what you did for me," he said hesitantly. "I meant to say something before, but then things got out of hand and—"

She smiled brightly up at him, and for a moment there, he couldn't breathe. "No thanks are needed," she said. "I couldn't let anything happen to you. And besides, I owe you my thanks for what _you_ did for me."

Draco nodded his head silently. He quietly observed Hermione as she stopped in front of Padma and started talking with her. Not for the first time, he wondered if Hermione had anything to do with Flint's death. He didn't think that she did. While he couldn't point to any solid evidence, he believed that it was someone else's doing. However, it was very convenient for her, given what Flint knew about her operations, and he didn't want to make the mistake of underestimating her ability to manipulate situations to her liking. Yet it would have been infinitely easier for Hermione simply to finish Flint off during her duel with him, and so it didn't make sense for her to take a more difficult route in getting rid of the wizard.

He sighed softly. No, he really didn't think she had arranged for Flint to die during his trip to Azkaban. It simply did not fit in with what he knew of her character, but he would keep an eye out for any hints that she was the responsible party, just in case. Even if his witch was responsible for his former captain's death, it was still preferable to Flint being around with his dangerous knowledge. Draco repressed a smug grin as he thought that he might have wound up having to get rid of Flint himself if someone hadn't taken care of the other wizard first. After all, if he was going to take advantage of his witch's schemes, it wouldn't do to let anyone else find out about them.

But for now, it was time to continue with his plan to make her fall in love with him. He reached out his hand to rest on the small of her back, grinning as she momentarily stiffened at the unexpected contact before relaxing. Her eyes sought out his. "My apologies for interrupting your conversation, dear," he said charmingly, "but I do believe that we might want to take our seats. Seeing how the wedding is supposed to start in about fifteen minutes."

Padma Patil rolled her eyes at his suggestion. "Since when has a wedding ever started on time?" she asked.

"Hardly ever, in my experience," he replied. "But that doesn't mean that the guests should allow themselves to be the reason for the delay."

"I can't say I disagree with that sentiment," said Hermione. She tilted her head to one side and tapped her chin with her finger. "Let me guess. You're on the bride's side, aren't you, Padma?"

"That I am. And of course you two will be on the groom's." Padma made a small moue of disappointment. "Very well. I'll find you later. I'll need someone who will be willing to dissect all the small details of the wedding with me."

Hermione nodded her head. "Me too." She smiled brightly at her co-worker. "It's a great research opportunity, isn't it?"

"Only you, Hermione Granger, would call a wedding a research opportunity," said Padma.

Draco snorted. "That sounds about right. But then, I would wager Hermione thinks of many things that way. If you'll excuse us." He inclined his head, dismissing the other witch. He led Hermione away as she waved good bye to her friend.

"Well, of course I think of this as a research opportunity," she said as they made their way to their pew. "I am in the middle of planning our own wedding right now. I might as well see if there's anything I particularly like to use in our own. You should keep that in mind," she told him teasingly. "Let me know if there's anything you especially like or dislike."

"If I say I hate something, does that mean you'll automatically include it?" he retorted. He could feel a grin tugging at the edges of his mouth. This was getting to be fun. Hermione might think that his banter was merely an act for anyone watching, but it wasn't. He wanted to put her at ease, and the best way to do that was to make her laugh.

Her eyes crinkled up as she chortled. "I must confess that idea does sound very tempting at times. It would be childish, however, so I don't think I'll resort to it."

"I'll trust you on that then," he said earnestly. He didn't want to have too much to do with the wedding. He could think of better things to do with his time, and besides, it would serve as a useful distraction for her. Draco was aware that he was playing with fire at the moment. If Hermione caught an inkling of how much he knew about her plans, then most likely they would be ruined. He didn't really want to linger on what she might do to him if she ever found out that he knew.

He found their pew, which was near the front. He stood aside so Hermione could sit down first. That would allow him to act as a buffer between her and his parents once they arrived, and for other things as well. He allowed himself a small smirk. If he had to move over when his parents came, so that his leg was touching hers, well then there was nothing suspicious about that. It was the perfect excuse to touch her throughout the entire ceremony. He wasn't going to let that chance pass him by.

No, he was going to pursue his seduction of her with all possible speed. At first he thought that he would proceed slowly, to avoid arousing her suspicions, but he had soon thrown that idea aside. He wasn't the patient sort. He was bound and determined to have her desperately in love with him by the time their own wedding took place.

Besides it was unlikely that she would be overly suspicious of his actions in public. He had demanded of her that they act as though they were in love in public, and so she would think that everything he was doing now was for that act. He also suspected that she thought it prudent to let him think that he was in charge and that she was truly frightened of the blackmail he held over her. He would use that to his advantage as well, and pressure her into spending more time with him alone. And when they were alone, then his seduction of her could really pick up speed.

When they were alone, he would be able to progress their relationship on the physical side. Kissing her, he thought, was the perfect place to start. It was safe and it was something they would have to do in public eventually anyway. It would also let him know just how responsive she was to him naturally. He silently congratulated himself for thinking of that. For now, he would take his time, but by the end of next week, he would have kissed her and gauged her natural response to him. He would further refine his plans once he knew that. He had to repress his urge to smirk. Hermione Granger wasn't going to know what had hit her.

* * *

The ceremony would have been lovely if it weren't so long. Hermione sighed as Draco shifted yet again in his seat. It seemed that the boy absolutely had no self control and could not sit still for more than a minute. A stray thought crossed her mind, and she wondered if he was this energetic in bed.

She squashed that train of thought. It wouldn't do to go down that path. Yes, Malfoy was attractive and sexy and charming when he put his mind to it. However that didn't mean she was about to lose her self-control over him. She was in control of her emotions, not the other way around.

Yet she couldn't help but look over at Draco. He was very handsome, and she knew that he knew it. It was tempting to think that perhaps he was falling for her, particularly with the way he had been acting the entire day and thanking her for getting him out of prison. The girlish romantic side of her whispered that there was no reason for him to act when they were alone together so his gestures must have been genuine. Hermione shook her head again. Yes, it was tempting to think that her actions had caused him to turn over a new leaf and look at her in a new light, one in which he could truly respect and admire her. But that was a fairy tale, and she was not about to fall for that.

Finally the ceremony was at its end. Cheers arose from the crowd as the priest told the groom to kiss the bride. Nott did so with great gusto, and from Hermione's viewpoint, Nadia responded with great enthusiasm. Neither of them needed any sort of encouragement. After they had finally finished and the wedding party had made its way back down the aisle to the peal of the wedding bells, Hermione walked with Draco and his family to the reception.

The reception was actually being held in a Wizarding restaurant a couple miles away. However, because of Nadia's relatives, the guests simply couldn't Apparate there. Instead the door that led to from the atrium to the small room where all the magical guests had arrived was now charmed to function as a portal between the church and the restaurant. To the Muggles going through the portal, it would seem as though they had stepped outside and walked a few doors down to get to the restaurant. No such deception was needed for the magical guests, of course.

Once again Hermione and the Malfoys were placed near the front of the entire party, only one table away from the happy couple. Also at the table were Nadia's aunt and uncle and a Muggle cousin with her husband. A pair of Ravenclaws from Nadia's year, Elly Asher and Vance Stone, rounded out the table. Hermione grinned as she saw the Malfoys' reactions when they realized that there were Muggles sitting at the table. While Draco seemed to take everything in stride and didn't appear to be discomforted in the slightest, Narcissa's nose turned up in disgust while Lucius' eyebrows shot up so high that they practically disappeared into his fringe. This was going to be an interesting evening. Narcissa was seated next to Nadia's uncle, and he looked to be rather garrulous.

It was definitely promising to be a night to remember.

Hermione turned her attention to the Ravenclaws on the other side of the table. She didn't want to get caught gloating this early. "Hello Elly, hello Vance," she said smiling. "I haven't seen either of you in ages."

To her surprise, both of them blushed. "I'm shocked that you remember me," Elly confessed. "I mean, I know you helped me with that one Arithmancy project in school but that was so many years ago."

Hermione laughed. "That wasn't even five years ago. I was what—in my sixth year? So that makes it about three years," she pointed out.

"Still a lot has happened between now and then," replied Elly.

"Yeah," agreed Vance. "I mean you had…well, you had so much that you had to deal with. You know, with your friends and all. Frankly I would have never expected us all to be here together like this," he said, casting a quick glance at the elder Malfoys. Hermione remembered that Vance was a Muggle-born like her, and she surmised that he was feeling a little uncomfortable having to dine with then.

"I have to say that I agree with you," said Draco. Hermione turned her head to look at him in surprise. He wasn't looking at her though, opting to meet Vance's stare with his own. "If you told me that one day we would be sharing a table like this, I probably would have directed you to the hospital wing to have your head examined." He shrugged. "But then again, I was never known for my ability to predict the future." Leisurely he rested his left arm on the back of Hermione's chair, his hand absently playing with her curls.

It was all Hermione could do to not jump up and ask what he was doing then and there. While they normally stayed close together in public, he usually didn't touch her this often and in so many ways. It was driving Hermione crazy to know the reasons behind his actions. Was he just trying to put on a good show for all who were watching? Or was he genuinely becoming fond of her, particularly after the way she had stood up for him the other night? She sighed. She dearly wanted to know the answer to her question, but there was no way she could ask him it in such a public setting.

There were clues, however, to the reasons behind his behavior in his actions throughout the rest of the evening. Draco was cordial to everyone at the table, even the Muggles. He interceded several times when his mother seemed on the verge of losing her temper with Nadia's uncle. To Hermione, he was more than just the epitome of courtesy. He complimented her frequently throughout the entire dinner and was always smiling when he spoke with her or even just looked at her. He asked her to dance once the music started playing, and he was an ideal partner the entire time, able to hold a conversation without stepping on her feet.

Hermione decided to relax. There was no point in being paranoid about Draco acting the way he was. She had enjoyed their night at the theatre, before they were so rudely interrupted, because they were both at ease. She knew without a doubt that he felt the same way. It was very likely that he decided it was time to end the hostilities between them. If they were to be married, then there would be no one more capable of making him miserable than her and vice versa. She sighed. Draco probably wanted to be happy, given what a horrid childhood he had been through, and she couldn't fault him for that. She kind of wanted to be happy as well, but she was willing to sacrifice that happiness for the greater good.

But if he wanted to make amends and truly become friends with her, she wasn't about to rebuff him. Hermione was tired of fighting all the time with him. He really wasn't the enemy. He was just a boy who was led down the wrong path by his parents, and she could forgive him for that.

No, the real enemy was those like Givens, who wanted to continue the war even though it had ended. The real enemy was Flint's compatriots, who sought to maintain pure-blood superiority in every single way and who wouldn't be caught dead speaking to Muggles. It was too soon to for her to be certain if Draco had turned over a new leaf. Yet considering that he was to be her husband, Hermione felt that she had to give him a chance. She had to give him a chance to mend his ways and maybe even help him to reform.

* * *

When Draco entered the dining room at Malfoy Manor the next morning, he was surprised to see that his mother wasn't present. He frowned as he walked over to his seat. "Hello Father. How is Mother today?" he asked his father as he placed his napkin on his lap. His stomach growled softly as the plate before him filled with food. "She is usually down here by now."

His father merely arched an eyebrow at him. "That is very true. Yet another example of how we spoiled you as a boy."

Draco repressed the urge to contradict his father. Seeing as it wasn't even eight yet, he hardly thought that he was late to breakfast. The wedding reception had gone on for hours. Draco and Hermione had stayed until the bitter end, but his parents had made their escape before midnight. He really didn't think his father could fault him for not getting up at the crack of dawn given that he had only gone to bed a couple hours before sunrise. But Draco knew better than to point this out to his father and settled on taking a large bite of his eggs instead.

"Your mother is fine," Lucius continued. "Albeit disappointed that you were not here early enough to see her off."

"She has plans for today?" Draco asked as he started to fill his plate. He hadn't known that for his mother hadn't said anything of the sort to him.

"Yes. It seems that she was supposed to meet with your fiancée and her friend yesterday morning about the wedding plans, but that was put off until tomorrow afternoon. She wants to get in contact with some people she knows in case your Miss Granger is finally willing to accept some help."

He swallowed the last bite he had taken before correcting his father. "She's hardly my Miss Granger," Draco said deliberately. He had noticed his father's choice of words. He knew that his father never did anything without a reason and was curious why his father would refer to Hermione that way.

"Perhaps not yet. But it does seem like you are well on your way to correcting that oversight," his father noted.

"Do you think I have her on too long of a leash?" he asked. He wished his father would just get to the point. Clearly his father wanted to talk about Hermione. That was why he had mentioned her in the first place for his father had never had any problems before in avoiding the subject of who Draco's fiancée was.

"Really? A leash?" his father said haughtily. "But never mind. I do not want to hear about your bedroom antics. I'll thank you to keep those to yourself."

Draco's face burned. "I didn't mean it like that," he sputtered.

"Is that so?" his father drawled. "Then tell me what did you mean."

He had no doubt that his father knew perfectly well what Draco had been referring to. Draco knew where this conversation was leading. It was taking on a familiar pattern, one that would lead to him being lectured to his father on one thing or another. He could feel anger rising up through his chest at that prospect. Both his parents, it appeared, still conceived of him as a mere boy. It was a very good thing that he had given in to Hermione's demand that they not live at Malfoy Manor. He hadn't been happy when he made the concession, but now he saw that it was a necessary step to prevent his parents from trying to run his life.

"Never mind," said Draco stiffly. He turned his attention to his breakfast, signaling that he didn't wish to continue this conversation. Of course his father didn't take the hint.

"Did you mean perhaps that I think your control over Miss Granger is insufficient?" his father asked lazily. "If so, let me assure you that is not so."

Draco ground his teeth together. Merlin, both of his parents were annoying. If it wasn't his mother, then it was his father thinking that he needed advice. He was on the verge of telling his father where he could stick his unwanted opinions, regardless of the inevitable consequences those words would have. "If you have a point, then make it," he said. He lifted his eyes to firmly glare at his father.

"Impatient as ever, I see. Though I am hardly in a position to criticize as I am not known for being overly patient as well. Very well then. It did not escape my notice, or your mother's, that you were doing your very best to charm Miss Granger last night." Lucius Malfoy paused. "I doubt that it escaped Miss Granger's notice as well. She did seem to be confused about your actions at times."

Draco paled at those words. It was no great revelation that his parents had realized he was trying to woo Hermione. They did know him better than anyone else did. However, he hoped that Hermione hadn't cottoned on to what he was doing. "Just confused? Or did she reach any conclusions?" he asked. While it still irked him that his father thought that he needed a lecture, he did need that information if his father had it. He would have to adjust his plans or come up with some sort of explanation for Hermione if she came close to realizing the truth.

Of course, it might be better just to come up with an explanation to feed her no matter what his father's observations on the subject were. His father didn't always get things right, as he knew all too well.

"Oh, I am certain that she did reach some sort of conclusion, consciously or subconsciously. She did relax considerably during the course of the evening." Lucius regarded his son with a stern gaze. "So you've decided to romance your fiancée," he noted.

"What of it? Are you going to disown me?"

"Hardly. I am no fool, and I didn't raise you to be one. Your Miss Granger is more than an adequate match for you. Indeed it appears that her cunning is at least equal to your own, and her connections will nicely compliment yours. My only question for you is why did you take so long in trying to win her heart?"

"Hang on. You mean to say you don't care that I'm trying to seduce her?"

His father made an expression of distaste. "I hope it's more than just seduction. Inspiring lust is no where near as useful as inspiring love. You'll do well to remember that." He paused to take a sip of his tea. "While I am at it, let me caution you that in trying to make her fall in love with you, you might very well fall in love with her. It is hard to be close and intimate with another person like that without falling to some degree. I do not think that you are so cold that you could be truly intimate with your Miss Granger and not be at risk of losing your own heart."

Draco snorted. He didn't think that his father knew what he was talking about. Maybe his father had fallen in love with his mother while he was wooing her, but their circumstances were completely different. "Don't worry. I won't fall for her," he promised out loud.

"I don't particularly care if you fall for her or not. I no longer have any interest in dictating your life's choices, seeing how you are the one who will have to live with any mistakes made. I just thought I would let you know about the possibility, but I see now that I just wasted my breath. You are not going to listen to me, are you?" His father shook his head in disappointment. "Never mind. We all must make our own mistakes. In any case, I do heartily approve of your choice. She will be a wonderful addition to the family."

"Thank you," said Draco. He waited to see what else his father had to say about Hermione.

"I thought it might be nice if we welcomed your fiancée to the family officially before the wedding. A birthday party hosted here at the manor would suffice, don't you think?" his father continued.

Draco choked on the bite of food he had just taken. "Excuse me?"

"I suggested that we hold a party here for your fiancée's birthday," his father repeated. Draco blinked and looked at his father. His father wasn't joking. He still had a straight face.

"I have no problem with it, and as far as I know, Hermione has not made plans for her birthday yet," Draco said. "Have you asked Mother what she thinks of the idea?"

"Of course I have. Not that I really needed to, as her reaction was everything I expected it to be. She hates the idea, of course. However she shall go along with it. She is starting to resign herself to the fact that she won't be the most important witch in your life any more," said Lucius. "She was very upset when I first pointed that out to her. There's no help for it, but I do hope you will try not to upset your mother overly much."

Draco decided to discard all attempts at subtlety. He was never going to get a straight answer out of his father if he kept skirting around the issue. "Never mind Mother being upset about that. You're not upset about this?"

"Why would I be?" his father responded evenly. "I have not forgotten that it's entirely my fault that you have to marry a Muggle-born. Frankly I am pleased that the witch you are going to marry is your equal. I have always enjoyed being half of a power couple, and I am not about to deny my son that same pleasure." His father bestowed a smile on him. "You will be much more influential and powerful with your Miss Granger at your side. Do not forget that. I would not have been half the man that I am if it were not for your mother. I hope that your marriage will be as good for you as mine was for me."

"Thank you," Draco said again. His father had surprised him. Draco knew that his father still didn't like Muggles or Muggle-borns. He didn't think that would ever change for either of his parents. However it appeared that his father was willing to put aside his prejudice because everything Hermione would bring to the Malfoy family.

Slowly a smile dawned on Draco's face, as he realized why his father had chosen to speak with him this morning. His father was letting him know that he approved of Draco's marriage and he would make certain that his mother wouldn't interfere in it. That was very good news indeed. Draco needed to focus all his energies on winning Hermione. He didn't have time to keep nagging at his mother to behave whenever she had to meet Hermione. His mother would no longer be a problem in that regard because his father had all but guaranteed that he would take care of her.

That was extraordinarily good news. It would make Draco's life so much easier. He was going to take advantage of his father's intercession and continue to court his witch. Seeing her once or twice a week in public was no longer enough. He would have to see her more often than that. He would also have to arrange for them to spend some time alone together. The smile on his face suddenly morphed into a smirk. Perhaps Hermione would be willing to spend more time with him if he asked for her help in learning about Muggle things. That had to be his best idea yet.

* * *

**Author's note: **That's it for this update. Thank you so much for reading. I would really love it if you would leave a review and let me know what you thought of this chapter. The next chapter should be up next week, and Draco will further his plan in that one. ;)

Finally, I would like to thank PotterEntourage, Snowe, misssweetsweet, Dame Brittany, inadaze22, rah-rah8, oneamsoundstage, mlui, Chanteur d'ombre, sugar n spice 522, meggie2224, karaburnes, Jaid Ziaendioscuri2, HazelFromBehind, celticscorpion, wickedwench1, kazfeist, MusicalCatharsis, allycat1186, Pfirsich, RememberMe2, Anna, Blood57, shat, dynonugget, OzabelleTheChi, and missevilprincess for reviewing the last chapter. Each and every review made my day. :D Really I can't thank you enough. :D


	18. Roses of May

**Ambition's End: Roses of May  
**

**Disclaimer:** None of these characters are mine as they all belong to JKR.

* * *

Hermione discreetly pinched herself. Then she took another look around. No, she wasn't dreaming. Narcissa Malfoy was still just quietly listening to Katie. She hadn't once made a snide remark. That was a miracle of the highest order, and Hermione didn't know what she had done to deserve it. It was rather the opposite in fact. Given how she had unthinkingly hurt her friend, Hermione deserved to suffer Narcissa at her worst. Even though she had decided she should concentrate her energies on being better in the future instead, there was still a part of her who felt incredibly guilty for using her friend the way she had.

Of course that friend was another source of puzzlement for Hermione. If Narcissa's behavior was amazing, Katie's was simply unfathomable. Her friend was a complete cipher to her today. It hadn't even been a full week, but Katie was back to her usual cheerful self. Hermione simply couldn't understand how Katie could have recovered so quickly. She thought that her friend must be putting on an act, but to all appearances, Katie was genuinely happy. Hermione sighed and resolved to keep an eye on her friend.

"I must confess that young Miss Weasley's designs do take me by surprise," said Narcissa. She continued to peruse Ginny's sketches for the wedding party. "They're nothing like what I would have expected out of her. Your bridesmaids, Hermione, certainly won't be able to complain about their robes if you decide to go with your friend as the designer."

That made Hermione feel even more disgruntled. She didn't want to go with Ginny's shop. While the younger witch had toned down her designs, they were still too fanciful for Hermione's tastes. The wedding robes were certainly beautiful and would compliment her nicely. But as depicted by the sketches, they looked to have a few too many layers. Even with cooling charms, Hermione thought that she would be sweltering in there.

"They are lovely," agreed Katie. She looked teasingly at Hermione. "And the wedding robes don't resemble any overdone cakes at all. No roses, no doves, no unicorns in sight."

"Yes," said Hermione, wincing as she remembered the wedding cake that Ginny had championed. "But have you taken a look over at the men's designs? They're rather…frilly, for lack of a better word."

"Are they?" Narcissa quickly turned to them. She gasped. "Oh dear! I don't know what to say about them."

"I do. I would call them horrid," mumbled Hermione.

"Yes, yes, I cannot say that they don't deserve that adjective," was Narcissa's smooth reply.

"As such, I don't think we should go with Ginny's sketches at all. I was thinking perhaps—"

"What you could do," said Katie, interrupting Hermione without batting an eye, "is get the robes for the witches in the wedding party from Ginny. For the wizards, you can go with another designer. The designs from Prometheus look good, as well as those from Magus. That might work out better, seeing how there isn't much time to complete everything."

"Oh, I like that idea! You would be having the wizards' robes from an old Wizarding design house, while your own would come from an up and coming designer. I like that interplay of traditional wizarding wear versus more forward-looking fashions." Narcissa tapped her fingers against the table. "I would go with Prometheus for the wizards though. I do believe that they will fit together better."

This wasn't going the way Hermione wanted it to go. She glared at her friend, but Katie winked at her, as though urging her to cotton on already. She wondered to herself if this was Katie's way at getting back at her passively. But then she paused.

There was another reason why Katie could be insisting that they go with Ginny's shop. Although Hermione wasn't too fond of Ginny, her sketches did show that the other witch tried to design robes in line with Hermione's aesthetics. If she went with another designer just because she didn't like Ginny, then that might inject some tension into her relationship with Harry and Ron. Besides Hermione would only have to wear them for a day, and she thought that the robes would suit her well enough. She decided not to continue the fight and to agree with her companions instead. After all there were many other things for them to discuss today.

"All right," said Hermione. "That works. When do we need to get our measurements taken?" she asked.

Narcissa smiled brightly at her. "It seems now that I must relay my ulterior motive for suggesting Prometheus. They've made robes for my family for ages, and I am positive that they still have Draco's measurements as well as those of his groomsmen. Trust me, that is for the best. You have no idea how much Draco hates going to any sort of robesmaker. I still remember how he complained for days after the first time he was fitted for school robes. If you were to set up an appointment for him, he would do his best to avoid it." She grimaced. "Of course they will still need to be fitted, but the less times Draco has to go in for that, the better."

"In that case, I'll just ask Ginny when would be the best time for her," said Katie. "I'll also check with Prometheus and ask for a tentative date when the men's robes will be ready for the first fitting. Does that sound good?" Both Hermione and Narcissa made murmurs of agreement to the suggestion. "Okay. So let's see. The next item I have is the security for the wedding." Katie's voice trailed off and she looked uncertain about breaching such a delicate subject.

"I hate to say it, but I think the safest route might be to ask for some Aurors to help with the wedding," Narcissa said. Her brow furrowed as she spoke. "It might make the occasion seem less festive. In fact, having them there definitely will make it less festive. However, I see no help for it." She pulled a face.

"I'm not sure if they will be willing to do that. They are notoriously busy these days. Maybe an outside firm as back up in case they don't show up?" Katie put forth tremulously.

Hermione decided it was time to be firm about what she wanted in this department. "No, I don't want to have any Aurors there. They're stretched too thin, and I doubt they'll agree to any request on our part to have some of them standing by in case of an emergency." She grimaced as she recalled the incompetents she had to wade through in order to get Draco out of prison. She also remembered how hostile Givens had been. There was no way she wanted that man having anything to do with any part of her wedding, much less something as important as security.

"I prefer to go with a private firm all the way," she continued. "I was thinking of using the Ricdeau Group. I don't think that there is anyone better out there."

Narcissa tilted her head to one side as she considered Hermione's words. "Yes, my dear, but it might be more comforting to some if we have a couple Aurors present." She stopped. Her eyes had suddenly widened as though an awful thought had just occurred to her. Then her face hardened with resolve. "On second thought, the Ricdeau Group is an excellent choice. I have always been happy with their services when I've used them for events at the manor. I agree that there is no need to bother the Ministry about lending us some of their Aurors."

Though nothing was said about it, Hermione knew that the reason behind Narcissa's sudden reversal was that she thought there may be Aurors who nursed a grudge against the Malfoys. Of course, Narcissa would be right but Hermione saw no reason to confirm the older witch's suspicions at the moment. The blonde witch was cunning enough, and she knew how to take care of herself. For now Hermione was going to keep her suspicions about Givens to herself and to those she trusted. She wasn't going to involve anyone else until she was certain that Givens was the culprit and even then only if she absolutely needed the help.

The conversation turned to the matter of decoration, and Hermione listened in half-heartedly. She mentioned her opinion on several items, but for the most part, she was willing to sit back and let the other witches handle it. Narcissa had exquisite taste, and Katie was doing a fine job with keeping things from getting too elaborate. Their session ended after they had finally come to terms about what sort of decorations would be used. Hermione was very happy to see Narcissa leave. Although the blonde witch had been on her best behavior today, Hermione wanted to see her gone before she had a chance to revert to her usual snobby self.

By her side, Katie also breathed a sigh of relief once Narcissa had left. "Thank Merlin," she said. "I thought that she was going to be more difficult."

"Me too. I'm shocked really that she was so pleasant today."

"It's probably asking too much for her to always be like that, isn't it?" asked Katie wryly.

"Probably," agreed Hermione.

"I thought as much. Oh well. At least this meeting went well." Katie stopped and smirked at Hermione. "Although frankly, I thought I was going to have to clobber you over the head to get you to agree to use Ginny's shop."

Hermione winced. "I know, I know. It's just the way she kept pressing me—"

"It irritated you to no end, didn't it?" Katie remarked sagely.

"Yes, but you're right. Since she did try to design for me rather than for the wedding of her dreams, I kind of have to use her. Otherwise Harry and Ron might have something to say about that."

"I don't think they would say anything, actually. Things might get tense, but then what would you expect? I thought you might want to avoid that more than you would want to deny Ginny her free advertising opportunity," said Katie.

"Yes, yes, actually, you're right. Happy now that I've admitted it?"

"No, but it'll do for a start," was Katie's cheerful response. Hermione was once again at a loss for words. She just didn't get how Katie could act so normally when only a few days before she had been so broken up over Flint's death. She didn't think that this could be very healthy for her friend. However, she didn't want Katie to know about her concern so she continued to banter with her friend as they made their way to her flat. Katie was going there in order to pick up the invitations. Narcissa had handed then a much shorter list when they had first met, so Katie was going to send all the invitations out by the end of the week. Hermione had offered to help, but the other witch refused that offer, saying that she wanted to keep busy. That was one way of dealing with grief, but Hermione still resolved to keep a close eye upon her friend in case things took a turn for the worse.

It didn't take too long for them to walk to Hermione's flat from the nearest Apparation point. Once they were there, Hermione handed over all the invitations with the admonishment that Katie contact her at once if she needed any help at all in sending them out. Katie promised to do so and then left, the huge pile of invitations stuffed into her bag courtesy of a shrinking charm. Five minutes hadn't even passed since Katie left when a knock sounded on Hermione's door. She went to answer it, wondering what her friend could have possibly forgotten. She was certain that they both had checked and double-checked to make certain that Katie had everything she needed for the invitations.

"So what did we forget about?" Hermione asked as she opened the door. Then she looked at who had knocked and she took a step back in surprise. "Draco!" she said. "I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting you and I thought it was someone else."

He bent his head to one side and smiled. "I figured that was the case. May I come in?"

"Oh yes, of course." She moved aside so he could enter, which he did. "Were we supposed to be doing something together right now?" she asked. Hermione could have sworn that she had tonight to herself. She was usually very good at keeping track when she was supposed to spend time with Draco, and so she was curious as to the reason for his sudden arrival.

"What? Am I not allowed to visit my lovely fiancée whenever I wish?" he asked mockingly as he pushed past her and strode towards her living room. He leisurely arranged himself on her sofa, leaving her only a small place for her to sit on. She sighed as she took the seat next to him and watched him carefully. She wondered what demand he was going to place on her now. Hermione wished there was some way she could start to assert more direct control in their relationship. Having to pretend to be subservient to him was really grating on her nerves.

"Well?" she said, tapping her foot impatiently against the floor. "Why are you here? I doubt that it's just to see me."

Draco sighed dramatically. "Oh! I cannot believe that you doubt me that way, darling!" he cried. Hermione was tempted to grab a pillow and suffocate the prat. She couldn't believe that just the other day she actually felt attracted to him. But then again, he always was more appealing when his mouth was shut. Maybe there was some hex she could use on him so that he would permanently lose his voice. _Though there are other ways to shut him up_, she thought. She frowned as she quickly chased that thought out of her head.

She wasn't about to snog him just so he would be quiet. No, definitely not. No matter how handsome he might be or how skilled he was supposed to be or anything like that. It was simply not an option.

Suddenly his demeanor changed. He sat up straight and turned towards her, so that he was looking her straight in the eye. "After seeing how Theo and Nadia are together, it occurred to me that we haven't been spending enough time together," he said, as a serious mien surrounded him. "The two of them spend every waking moment with one another. We only see each other twice, maybe three times a week. To be frank, I am surprised that there haven't been any rumors going around that we're not as close as we seem."

Hermione closed her eyes briefly. One of the reasons why there was no such rumor was because she had leaned heavily on her contacts at the _Daily Prophet_ and _Witch Weekly_, all but saying that she would be tremendously displeased if any articles came out about the two of them being at odds with each other. She opened her eyes again and met Draco's stare head on. "So I take it you want to start spending more time with me?" she asked.

Though the idea hadn't initially appealed to her, it could have its uses. She had less on her plate now that she had finally found a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for Hogwarts as well as having Katie helping her plan the wedding. Now would be the perfect time to spend more time with Draco and getting to know him and his triggers better. Of course, she also now had Givens to worry about but spending more time with Draco would help her there too. She wanted to be close to him just in case the Auror made another attempt to trap her wizard like he did last time. She did not trust Givens one bit and she thought it was better to be too careful when it came to protecting Draco from him.

"Yes, I do actually." He sighed, and she expected him to come out with some nasty comment about him not really wanting to spend more time with her than he had to for fear that she would contaminate him.

To her shock and amazement, that wasn't it.

"There's another thing that I realized when I was watching Theo and Nadia the other day," he said slowly. "It's incredible how happy Theo is. He was never like that at school or when he came to visit me during the summers. It's because of her that he's so happy."

Hermione nodded her head. It was clear to all who saw them that the Notts were very much in love. She wondered where Draco was going with that.

"While seeing them together, it occurred to me that once we are married, I will be bound to you for the rest of my life."

"What? You didn't realize that before?" Hermione scoffed openly. "You're slower than I thought."

Draco glared at her. "Would you shut up and listen? Yes, I knew bloody well that's what marriage meant, Hermione. But I didn't think about all the consequences of that. There's no one in the world who will have as many chances to make me miserable as you. And to be completely honest, I don't want that."

"Then what do you want?"

He shrugged his shoulders in response. "Not that, at least. I thought though I would at least try to get along. I mean, when we're not arguing, it's actually not that bad to be around you." He frowned. "No, that isn't going far enough. I've had fun, believe it or not, sometimes with you. And I'm incredibly grateful that you came after me the other evening. You could have let me rot in prison with Flint and I might be out of you way by now. So I thought that if we have to spend more time together to make our story about being in love more believable, then we could also perhaps try to be genuinely friendly with one another, that's all."

It wasn't a stirring declaration of love, but then Hermione wouldn't have believed it if Draco had confessed that he had fallen in love with her. He was right. They hadn't spent all that much time together, but their outings had been getting to be more and more enjoyable, the night at the theatre excepted of course. It did make a certain amount of sense that Draco wasn't really interested in continuing their hostilities in private; it wouldn't make for a very peaceful or a very pleasant life. She found herself nodding her head. "All right then," she said. "If you're willing to be friendlier with me, I'm willing to do the same."

He smiled bright at her, and it almost took her breath away how good a real smile looked on him. "Thank you," he said. "I certainly will. In fact, I like to think that we were already traveling down that path. I just wanted to make it official. Now that's done, how about dinner?"

"Dinner?" Hermione repeated. She twisted her mouth. She didn't really feel like going out after having just arrived back home, but she didn't know how Draco would take her refusal. She didn't want to upset him, not when he had finally begun to make overtures towards her.

"Yes, dinner." He waved his hand in the air. "Oh, don't worry. I am well aware of the fact that you're tired. Of course, you are since you've been busy with wedding plans all afternoon. I was thinking of some place quiet, and I think I know just the place." He looked at her pleadingly. "Please? Or if you like, we can go to a Muggle restaurant if that's more appealing."

That settled it. There was no way she was going to turn him down when he was offering her that concession. "Fine, fine," she said. "And there is a Muggle restaurant that I think you might enjoy. Let's go."

* * *

It wasn't good to gloat. Draco knew that as his parents had drilled that lesson into him when he was a young boy. Not because it wasn't polite, although it wasn't really, but because it gave your opponents a clue that you had just wrung some sort of victory out of them. Both of Draco's parents had been insistent that you didn't want to give any sort of clue like that away. But he couldn't help but gloat as he returned home. Not only had he been able to get Hermione to agree to spend more time with him, he had also come up with an absolutely brilliant reason for him to be friendlier and nicer to her.

Ever since he had first formulated his plan, he knew that he couldn't just seduce Hermione outright. She was a bright witch, and she soon would become suspicious of why he acting so differently to him. He didn't want to count on her thinking that his change of behavior had to do with everything that had happened after Flint's attack, especially not when he had already decided that he didn't want to take the slow route. Thus he needed an excuse to feed to her so that she wouldn't become wary of his intentions.

That had only become even more apparent after his father had mentioned how Hermione had noticed his efforts. He just couldn't take the chance that she would figure him out. Deciding it was best not to underestimate one of the cleverest witches to ever come out of Hogwarts, he wrangled with coming up with an explanation that she could believe.

Thankfully the memory of how Theo and Nadia had been at their wedding had still been fresh in his mind and that had inspired him. He had conceived the perfect excuse, which she had accepted without question. He had wanted to shout in glee when she had agreed to his suggestion, knowing that sooner rather than later, she would be deeply besotted with him. That was when he would pounce, reveal all that he knew about her plans, and suggest that they combine their forces. She wouldn't be able to say no.

Thinking about that made it impossible for Draco to hide his smile as he walked through the manor. His plan was going very well, and things were only going to get better. Hermione had agreed to meet him tomorrow night as well, and he had every intention of kissing her before the evening was over. Lost in thought over what steps he would take to ensure that outcome, Draco rounded the corner and started towards the stairs when he was interrupted by his father's voice.

"Draco, don't tell me that you plan on going up to bed without stopping to say good night to me and your mother?" his father said in that slow drawl, which functioned as a warning. Draco stopped and sighed. There was no point in ignoring his father's not-so-subtle command. His father probably had something he wanted to say to Draco as the elder Malfoy never did _anything_ without having at least a couple of reasons. Draco pivoted on one heel and soon entered the drawing room that his parents were in.

"Hello Father. Hello Mother," he said as he approached them. The two of them were sitting side by side on the sofa in the middle of the room, each of them watching him through lidded eyes. "Is there something you wanted to talk to me about?" he asked, getting straight to the point.

The two of them shared a glance, silently communicating with one another. Draco hated when they did that. Not only did he feel left out, such glances also had the effect of making him feel like a little boy about to be scolded for being naughty. Finally his mother rolled her eyes and spoke.

"Fine then. My family, if you insist, Lucius. But that is only because it is clear that Malfoys are far more stubborn than Blacks." She sighed, an act Draco found himself echoing. For some reason, his parents found it amusing to blame whatever faults they thought he had on the other. He didn't really think it was all that funny. It was too bad that it was impossible to convince his parents of the same.

"Well?" he asked, tapping his foot impatiently. "Was there something, or shall I just bid you good night?"

"That's hardly any way to speak to your mother, Draco, given that she was going to inform you about how the plans for your wedding have been progressing," his father drawled.

"Is that all?" Draco replied insouciantly.

"Of course you wouldn't care, you silly boy," his mother said, sighing in exasperation. "You probably think it's an easy thing, planning a wedding. You have no concept of how much work it is."

"I am positive that there is less work for all involved when everyone gets along," said Draco smoothly.

His mother huffed indignantly and rolled her eyes. "_That _is asking for a miracle. Your intended and I will never be friends. However, I will welcome her into the family and I believe I made that as clear as possible in the meeting I had with her and her friend this afternoon."

"Good," said Draco. He recalled the discussion he and his father had a couple nights ago and the request his father had made of him. "Thank you so much, Mother. I do appreciate you doing so. I know that you do not like Hermione, but I assure you it will make my life so much easier."

His mother inclined her head gracefully towards him, acknowledging his thanks. "I certainly hope that proves true. As to your wedding plans, have no fear. I believe your fiancée and her friend are up to the task, and I will be there to ensure the event is as grand as it should be," she said. She cast a genuine smile in his direction before turning her attention back to Lucius. "And I am certain that both of you will be very happy to hear that I didn't have to persuade them all that much to use an outside firm for security, rather than relying upon Aurors. They were very willing to heed my advice after I hinted at the disadvantages."

"Excellent," said his father. "I admit I was concerned about that point. Young Miss Granger might trust them because she has many friends in their ranks. I, however, do not given our family's history with them."

Draco repressed a snort. He doubted that Hermione trusted the Aurors all that much. He had heard how Givens had insulted Hermione, and he knew that she must have been fuming over those remarks. He was not surprised that Hermione had readily agreed to look elsewhere for the security of the wedding. It was gratifying that she did seem to care about keeping him in one piece. He was rather fond of staying in that condition as well.

"Which reminds me," his father said suddenly. "I had forgotten to ask you this earlier, Narcissa, but did you let Miss Granger know that we would be happy to host a small party for her birthday here at the manor." It was a statement more than a question as everyone in the room knew that Narcissa's response would be that it somehow slipped her mind.

"Oh dear. I do believe I forgot all about that," his mother replied. Her eyes were wide and innocent as she struck her palm with her fist. "I must remember to bring that up next time."

"Don't worry about that, Mother," said Draco. His father shot him a warning look even as his mother smiled at him warmly, clearly expecting him to say that such a gesture wouldn't be necessary. "I'm seeing Hermione tomorrow," he continued. "I will ask her about it then."

"An excellent idea, Draco," his father said approvingly before his mother could get a word in edgewise. "No use in wasting any time, particularly as your mother likes to have plenty of time to make sure that everything will be perfect."

"Yes, truly an excellent idea," his mother echoed faintly.

"Thank you," said Draco. "I'm glad you like it." Just then a sudden thought struck him. "Oh! I just remembered that there is something I want to ask you about, Father."

His parents exchanged another glance. This time, however, Draco could read it easily. They were both curious and cautious about what Draco wanted to know.

"What is it?" asked Lucius.

"As you might have heard, given your contacts, Hermione is at odds with her boss, Balthazar. I was wondering if you might know why he dislikes her so much." Draco hoped that his father knew something about the matter. It would make things easier for him if his father was able to point Draco in the right direction for figuring out why the older wizard seemed to have hated Hermione on sight.

"Balthazar?" his father echoed, his forehead crinkling in confusion.

"Balthazar Merlose," his mother told him. "You must have heard the stories about him. I know I did, no matter that my parents tried so hard to keep them from me and my sisters."

"Ah yes." Confusion was lifted from his father's face as he recalled the man who Draco was asking about. "Of course you would remember him better than me. That sort of romantic rubbish is what you witches like, isn't it?"

Narcissa laughed lightly. "You would do well to remember that. Yes, I am fond of romantic declarations. How could any girl not sigh over a man who claimed he would defy fate, force fate to change its course to save the life of the woman he loves?"

That did not sound good. Draco stiffened. He wondered if Hermione's support of Potter had somehow got in the way of Balthazar's plans. "And so he doesn't like Hermione because she helped Potter, perhaps?" he asked tentatively.

His parents looked at each other before turning to face him again. "No," his mother said decisively, shaking her head.

"That wouldn't be it. Old Merlose is a pure-blood, it is true, but he was never on our side," his father added.

"He was more on his own side. I don't see how he could care about Miss Granger's regrettable lack of a proper lineage or her actions during the war." Narcissa frowned prettily. "No, the only thing I can think of to explain his distaste for her is that he must somehow see her as a threat."

"Yes, that would make sense. He would not like her if she was some sort of threat to his plans," his father agreed. Lucius shrugged his shoulders eloquently. "Beyond that, I am afraid your mother and I can be of no further aid. I never bothered to keep up with what Old Bal was researching. It was always far too esoteric for me."

"Same here," his mother said. Then she frowned. "You could ask your friend Zabini"—here she pulled a face, making it clear that she did not like her own suggestion—"as his mother probably knows more than either of us."

"Thank you for that advice, Mother," said Draco. He smiled at her gratefully even as he thought about how best to approach Zabini about this delicate matter.

* * *

**Author's note:** Thanks so much for reading this far. Please review. It would really make my day.

And I would like to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter: dynonugget, inadaze22, wickedwench1, PamelaKatt, RememberMe2, pelagic, misssweetsweet, Dame Brittany, salazors, MusicalCatharsis, rah-rah8, pnayz4life, Chanteur d'ombre, mlui, cemicool, twin-v, allycat1186, Snowe, kazfeist, Pfirsich, shat, lilmzhln18, Blood57, sugar n spice 522, Mystery's Wife, mirth, and Tamara. :D:D Seriously, I really appreciate that each of you took the time to review the fic.


	19. Behind the Door

**Ambition's End: Behind the Door  
**

**Disclaimer:** None of these characters are mine as they all belong to JKR.

* * *

Hermione hummed to herself as she waited for Draco to meet her in the atrium at Ministry headquarters. She was very happy how well everything had gone for her so far today. She had finally got in contact the internet service provider of the anti-Hogwarts website the other day. Thankfully she had some luck and the company happened to be in need of funds. They were actually looking for additional investors and so she had arranged for a meeting with them earlier today. The meeting had gone well, and she had got an appointment to inspect their actual facilities as well as their books later in the week at which time she would hand over a cheque if everything met with her approval.

Hermione planned to do two things during her inspection. She wanted to find out who was behind the website, and then she wanted to shut it down. She knew that the first task should be easy enough since she would be able to look at the company's records. As for the second, it needed more planning but Hermione thought she had a way to do that as well that only required a few clever spells. She was very pleased with the way things were going and her mood was very cheerful. She only hoped that nothing would ruin her mood tonight as she was going out with Draco again.

The other thing that had put Hermione in such a good mood tonight was all the progress that was being made on her wedding. Katie had sent her an owl this afternoon saying that Ginny wanted to do preliminary fittings on all the witches later this week. Her friend had added that all the invitations should be sent out by that time as well. Both of those items were a great relief to her as it appeared that her wedding was finally back on track, and she had only Katie to thank for it. She was very grateful to her friend. She wished there was something she could do for Katie, but she couldn't think of anything at the moment.

Hermione sighed, blowing the fringe out of her face and looked around again. She still didn't see Draco, but then they hadn't put an exact time for when they were to meet. He had simply asked that she wait for him in the atrium after work, and she had agreed. Usually he was very prompt, something that she appreciated as she never liked waiting for anyone, but today seemed to be an exception. Perhaps it was a bad idea not to specify an exact time. She wrinkled her nose. Maybe she would just go home and owl him to meet her there instead.

Just then the hairs on the back of her neck rose as she felt that someone was approaching her from behind. She whirled around, half ready for it to be an attack, only to see her fiancé, his grey eyes amused at her actions.

"I see that I can't sneak up on you," he said. He winked at her for the briefest of moments before sketching a flamboyant bow. "My apologies for making you wait, darling," he went on to the sighs of all the witches watching them. "It took me longer than I thought it would to get everything ready for tonight."

"No worries. Where are we going by the way? You never got around to telling me that," said Hermione.

"Well it wouldn't be much of a surprise if I told you," he replied playfully.

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Perhaps you couldn't tell me because you weren't certain where we were going to dine tonight until fairly recently?" was her rejoinder.

"Touché. The lady gets it in one." He gave an exaggerated sigh.

"You still haven't answered my question. I do hope you know where our destination is going to be now."

"Of course. But that doesn't mean it's still not a surprise."

She shook her head slowly and then smiled up at him. "Fine. I give up. I'll just wait till we get there." She paused. "Do I need to go home for a quick change of clothes first or is what I'm wearing all right?" She had dressed up for work today, knowing the sort of restaurant that Draco liked to frequent. However, she hoped that the question would get more information out of him, seeing how he hadn't been forthcoming at all when she had asked him directly.

"Nice try to get some more information out of me." He wagged his finger at her. "What you're wearing is fine. It's not the sort of place where you have to worry about being seen. Rather it's the ideal spot to relax." He offered her his arm with a small flourish. "That being said, are you ready to go my dear? I'll be Apparating us there." She nodded her head and took his arm. Her stomach lurched, causing her to close her eyes as was often the case when someone was sidelong Apparating her to their destination but it didn't last long. A second later, they had arrived.

She opened her eyes and eagerly looked around at their surroundings. She found herself stifling a gasp. They were surrounded by darkness so profound it resembled velvet. Hermione had no problem seeing, however, because circling all around them were brilliant specks of light. The whole effect was as though they were a thousand feet in the air at night with only the stars to guide them. She tugged her hand out of Draco's grasp and took a few steps forward, twirling around slowly to see if she could recognize any constellations or individual stars. She could see several and that was when she knew where they were. She found herself impressed in spite of herself.

_Le Ciel Nocturne_ was a Wizarding restaurant that was infinitely hard to get access to. Its clientele was exclusive, and reservations had to be made months in advance. She wondered for a second how Draco had managed to get a last minute reservation like this when she remembered that the majority shareholder of the restaurant group that owned this place was a subsidiary of his family's company. She smiled to herself, satisfied that she had sussed out how he managed to get the reservation. Despite his family's connections, it couldn't have been easy especially how he had been so tight-lipped about their destination this evening. Without those connections, it would have been impossible to pull off.

"Well?" Draco asked. "Impressed?"

"I would be more impressed if you had told me where we're going," she replied playfully. "I feel woefully underdressed for someplace like this."

He snorted. "Hardly. You look very nice as it is. Obviously I need to compliment you more if you still have trouble believing that. Besides, the whole point of coming here is to relax and enjoy yourself, Hermione, rather than worrying about impressing one's fellow diners."

"I suppose so," she said slowly. The restaurant was regarded highly for the lengths it took to keep its patrons' identities secret. There was no main dining room, only private dining rooms, and the entire restaurant was enveloped by the velvet darkness masquerading as outer space. They were soon greeted by a waiter who led them to their own room. Just as Draco had promised, there was no one around to see them. It was rather relaxing to think that here was a place where she didn't have to worry about the sort of impression that she was making on the rest of the world. Hermione couldn't help but glance around instead of at the menu, smiling when she recognized one constellation in particular.

"Let me guess. This is the room you always dine in," she said, tilting her head towards the collection of stars that bore the same name as her companion.

He nodded his head. "Of course. When I first came here as a child, I used to think that the stars were named after me, rather than the other way around. My mother soon set me straight about that. I was bitterly disappointed when I found out how false that conceit was."

Hermione bit her tongue and didn't say that she wasn't surprised to learn that Draco had been so conceited as a child to believe that. That simply wouldn't do when they had agreed to a truce of sorts so she wisely stayed quiet and took her seat instead. Draco sat down beside her, rather than across from her, and she flinched slightly from the unexpected contact. Usually when they dined out together, he sat on the other side of the table unless of course they were with friends. However, it made sense for them to start sitting on the same side, if they wanted the world to believe that they were truly in love.

She looked at Draco from the corner of her eyes. So long as he behaved it would be easy to pretend to love him. She imagined that she could grow fond of him, but then corrected herself. She had already grown fond of him, against her better judgment perhaps knowing what she knew of his background.

Still she couldn't exactly blame him for being a prejudiced git back when they were in school because that was how he was brought up. He had improved by leaps and bounds back then; the Draco from Hogwarts would have rather died than suggest to a Mudblood that they learn how to get along. However, this Draco was one who had been in several life and death situations. Hermione supposed that was what had changed his point of view. For all his faults, he wasn't foolish enough to want to die for a cause, and she couldn't blame him for that. She had been willing to do what it takes for her side, but she never particularly _wanted_ to die. In fact she had done everything she could to save not only her life but those of her friends, cramming a lifetime's worth of learning when it came to protection charms in the space of a few weeks.

She sighed, pushing those thoughts aside. She didn't want to dwell on everything that had happened but instead focus on what was to come. Hermione was very pleased that Draco had seen the light and wanted to be friendly with her. She hadn't been looking forward to a marriage full of strife and disaccord, and so she had tinkered with the idea of making him fall in love with her. However, his wish to be friends with her was even better than that as that would take much less effort on her part.

_Safer too_, she thought as she admired his visage once again. Truly he had grown into his features. He wasn't the scrawny boy that he used to be, although his frame wasn't overly large. He was lithe and moved with all the grace of a cat. His silver hair and eyes were enough to make any warm-blooded witch sigh. It simply wasn't fair that his eyelashes were so long when Hermione had to make do with less in that department.

No, it was safer not to make him fall in love with her. She knew that in order to be successful, she would have had to open her own heart up. That would have made her vulnerable to falling in love with him. There were worse fates, she supposed, but she wasn't going to take that risk if she didn't need to.

Their evening together continued to proceed well. The two of them were able to find several topics to talk about but then that seemed to always be the case. She did appreciate that. She would have hated being tied to a man who couldn't keep up his end of the conversation. Their discussion, however, was interrupted by the waiter dropping by to take their orders.

"I suppose this is as good a time as any," said Draco once the waiter had left. He shifted in his seat nervously, causing Hermione to wonder what topic he wanted to broach. "My parents would like to host a celebration in your honor for your birthday. Would you be willing to attend?"

Hermione didn't really want to say yes. She got along with Narcissa Malfoy like a house on fire, and she wasn't about to make the mistake of trusting Lucius Malfoy. But she didn't think that it was prudent for her to just refuse the offer either. She was trying to make nice with Draco after all. Eventually she would also have to deal with the elder Malfoys in public as well. So it was that she found herself agreeing to the proposal, although she was not looking forward to it at all.

It seemed like no time passed, but sooner than she thought, dinner was over. The evening had gone by so quickly, and she readily agreed to let Draco accompany her home so that they could continue their discussion on Muggle space exploration. He had been floored to learn that Muggle science was so advanced that they could send people into orbit. That disbelief was typical for a pure-blood wizard. What was unusual was how he wanted to hear more about the subject so she told him as much as she knew, even though she felt that it wasn't much. But Hermione wanted to change the attitude wizards and witches held towards Muggles, and she thought that her future husband was a logical person to start with.

"That's truly fascinating," said Draco as they arrived at her front door. "If you have any books on the subject, may I borrow them?"

"I don't," she said. "But my dad might." She bit her lower lip, wondering how things would go if she took Draco back to visit with her parents again. Things hadn't gone well at all last time, and she didn't think that would ever improve. Draco's mind might now be more open towards learning more about Muggles, but her parents' minds had closed on the subject of the Wizarding World. She sighed. "The next time I speak with him, I'll ask if he has any," she said.

"Thank you," he replied as he took a step towards her and her front door. She wondered if he wanted to be invited in. She supposed that would be all right. It wasn't all that late, and she didn't think it would be amiss to invite him in for a cup of tea before he returned back to Malfoy Manor. She looked up at him with every intention of asking if he would like to stay for awhile longer when she realized just how close the two of them now were. She could count every eyelash of his, and with a blush, she realized that he could make out the freckles that were scattered about her face. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down and stop thinking about how damn good he looked, when all of a sudden, he crossed the distance that separated them and bent down his head to give her a kiss.

It was completely unexpected. His soft lips pressed up against her own, and she couldn't help but gasp. True to form, he was quick to take advantage of the opportunity that afforded him. His arms wrapped around her as he drew her even closer to him, and against her better judgment, Hermione found herself kissing him back, unable to resist the passion he was arousing in her. But just like their evening together, it was over far too soon. She was disappointed when he ended the kiss and stepped away from her. They stood there in silence for a moment, just looking at one another as Hermione did her best to get her breath back after he had so effectively stolen it away from her.

"That's good," he said. "At least we won't have to worry about embarrassing ourselves when we have to do that in front of an audience at our wedding." He gave her a boyish grin that took her breath away all over again.

She blushed and looked down at her feet. She didn't know how to respond to that. It was a let down to think that he only kissed her because he thought that they needed the practice. She scolded herself briefly for being so caught up in the moment and the man. It wouldn't do to forget who she was dealing with, and she would have to steel herself in the future so she wouldn't get carried away with her unfortunate attraction to him.

"You're not upset, are you?" He placed a finger under her chin and lifted it up so that her eyes met his. "Come on, Granger," he said with that all-too charming smile plastered across his face. "It was inevitable. We had to kiss sometime. I for one am glad that there is some chemistry between us. It will make living together much easier."

_There is that much_, she thought. _Being attracted to him will make it easier to be his wife. And that is what I wanted all along because of everything I will get from the relationship. I just can't let my guard completely down as I don't want him finding out about my plans._ She shuddered at the thought. Nothing good could possibly come out of that.

"Hermione?" he said and she realized that he was waiting for a response from her.

"No, I'm not upset," she said. "Just taken aback. I thought you would give me some warning before doing something like that."

He laughed then, a genuine one that she liked very much. "Please. It wouldn't have been half as good if I had stammered like a fool and asked if I might kiss you," he pointed out.

"Maybe," she said. A rueful grin crossed her lips. He was right, but she didn't want to tell him that. He had a big enough ego as it was, so she didn't have to stoke it any further.

He shook his head. "Well I suppose I won't get you to admit that you're wrong. Since you want fair warning, I'll give it to you now. I for one see nothing wrong with kissing my future wife—or more—whenever I feel the time is right."

"I'll consider myself warned." Then she stood on her tiptoes and planted a swift kiss on his lips before she drew back. "Just so you know, that goes both ways." She smiled smugly. She had to get used to not only being with him, but being intimate with him. If he was going to practice on her, then she was going to return the same favor. That was the only way she could think of for her to deal with her attraction to him without losing her heart or her head over him.

* * *

**Author's note:** Yes, I know. This chapter is short. But it is a good place to end the chapter as anything else might seem a little anti-climatic. There will be lots more plot in the following chapter.

Anyway, as always, thank you for reading. Please review. :D I am very curious to learn what everyone thought of this chapter.

Finally, thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter: SelectAnother, PotterEntourage, Dame Brittany, rah-rah8, PamelaKatt, meggie2224, Tamara, oneamsoundstage, WinterhartZahneelCalina, kazfeist, Polegara, mlui, Chanteur d'ombre, Ceralyn, karaburnes, Snowe, sugar n spice 522, allycat1186, Drajl719, Pfirsich, dynonugget, shat, misssweetsweet, Blood57, Krazee-Reader, Fire Lady Aya, and nonentity. :D:D I always love reading what everyone has to say.


	20. Don't Be Afraid

**Ambition's End: Don't Be Afraid  
**

**Disclaimer:** None of these characters are mine as they all belong to JKR.

* * *

It was very obvious that Hermione was up to something. Any fool could tell that by looking at the statements from Gringotts, and Draco prided himself on not being a fool. The week of Flint's attack upon her, Hermione had transferred a substantial sum from the vault he had given her access to and into her own personal vault. It didn't make much of a dent in that account and so he didn't have to bother with transferring any more funds into it. Draco was certain that she needed the money for something important that probably related to her ultimate plan. As such, he wasn't about to confront her about the transaction.

For it suited his own purposes very well for her to be able to use his money in whatever way she thought was necessary. It was another argument that would be in his arsenal when he finally put the proposal to her that they truly join their forces to take over the Wizarding World covertly. Hermione was a very clever witch, and Draco knew that she had already taken that into consideration when she had selected him as her husband. However, if she got used to being able to spend money to create shortcuts for her, then it would be much harder for her to turn him down.

Of course, regardless of that, it was going to be hard for her to tell him no because of how much progress Draco had made in their relationship. In the last week or so, they had seen each other almost a dozen times. He had continued to do small things such as sitting so close to her that his thigh brushed up against hers and wrapping an arm around her whenever they were walking together in public. There was no longer any hesitation in his witch when he touched her. Indeed, she was learning not only to expect it, but to enjoy his touch. Certainly the way she responded to his kisses spoke volumes.

That was just as well for there was one portion of his plan that wasn't going so well. He had wanted to intercede with Balthazar Merlose for her, seeing how her boss had kept up his not so subtle attempts to undermine her, but Draco was having a hard time collecting any information on the old wizard. He had taken his father's advice and had asked Zabini what he knew about the old man. All his former housemate had said was that Bal usually visited his mother for tea several times a year, which proved how crazy the old wizard was. Evidently while Zabini was fond of his mother, he held no illusions about the type of witch she was. Unfortunately, his old school mate had been unable to help him and Draco had yet to find a source that could help him with the question of why Balthazar was so set against Hermione.

But he wasn't about to let that stop him. There was one wizard who knew without a doubt why the head of the Department of Mysteries disliked one of the brightest young witches to enter that department, and that was Balthazar himself. He had already sent an overture to the old wizard, requesting a private meeting. He hadn't heard back yet but he wasn't going to take no for an answer. If he had to Draco would somehow worm his way into getting an appointment with the secretive wizard. In the beginning, he had wanted to do so merely to have proof showing Hermione how useful he could be to her. Now, however, with all the challenges he had been facing, he had another, more compelling reason. He also wanted to get to the bottom of this mystery to prove to himself that he could do so. He wanted—perhaps needed—to prove to himself that he was as capable as her when it came to manipulating others.

* * *

He frowned as he peered around the corner. There was still no sign of his target coming around soon. It was unnerving to skulk about the Ministry the way he was doing in the hopes of running down the head Auror. But if Dennis could reach Givens, he felt certain that he would gain a valuable ally in his quest.

And he needed such allies. Recently, he had run into some problems with his website. He had received a notice from his internet service provider that his website had been deleted because the site violated the ISP's content standards. He had immediately written back, asking what particular policy his website had violated. He never did receive a reply. He had tried several times to contact them, but to no avail, almost as though someone had cast a powerful memory charm on the entire company.

That idea had given him serious pause when it first came to him. It had been taboo in the Wizarding World for ages to reveal to Muggles that magic was real. A quarter of the jobs in the Ministry dealt with hiding magic from Muggles. However, Dennis had soon pushed that idea aside. Only a Muggle-born like himself could possibly know about that sort of technology. Even then, Muggle-borns who knew their way around the Internet were few and far between, and they would probably be sympathetic towards him.

In any event, the loss of his website wasn't too much of a setback. Classes at Hogwarts had already started, and so there wasn't much point in maintaining the site when no letters were being sent out. Losing the website saved him money, which was something he didn't have all that much of. That was why it was imperative he find allies. He needed help in making sure that Muggle-borns were warned away from the dangers of the Wizarding World. He also needed help if he was ever going to be able to avenge his brother's death. Dennis had thought about his problem logically, and he had reached the conclusion that the people most likely to help him were those who lost a loved one like he did in that final battle.

That made Givens the perfect candidate. Givens' daughter, Alys, had been slain during the horrific Battle of Hogwarts. Dennis imagined that must have driven the man mad. Certainly his own parents had yet to come to terms with the loss of their eldest son. He himself still found it hard to keep on going without the brother who was always so kind to him. In the event that Givens didn't see things the same way that Dennis did, he kept a list of others who had lost loved ones during the war and who he thought might be sympathetic to his proposals. At least one of them would be willing to help him, he believed.

Dennis sighed and looked around again. He couldn't believe that he still hadn't even seen his target today. He was beginning to think that perhaps he should try approaching someone else with all the luck he was having in tracking Givens down. Dennis had been at the Ministry for the better part of the day, lurking in whatever areas he could access. He had managed to sneak into Auror headquarters briefly, saying that he wanted to see Harry Potter who he knew back in Hogwarts. That excuse had worked on the first few Aurors he had seen, but all too soon, Zabini had happened upon him and the arsehole had promptly escorted him back to the atrium.

It was now past the end of the day, and most Ministry workers had already Flooed home for the evening. Dennis had stuck around for so long, thinking that this was his best chance at catching the elusive head Auror. Unfortunately, it didn't look as though he would be able to do that today. Disappointed, he decided to head back home. He would try owling Givens and asking the other wizard for a meeting. If he didn't receive a reply, then he would turn his efforts to recruiting some of the other names on his list.

* * *

Hermione studied her friend with a wary eye, trying to see if there were any chinks in the persona Katie was presenting to the world. It appeared as though Katie was as happy as she could possibly be as she told her friend the latest arrangements made for Hermione's wedding. Indeed, if she hadn't seen firsthand how upset the older witch had been upon hearing of Flint's death, she would have believed that Flint's death didn't faze Katie in the slightest. There was no trace of the sobbing wreck whom Hermione had done her best to comfort not that long ago.

"So I was able to get the Ricdeau Group to provide security," Katie said. She smiled brightly. "I do believe that's everything we've decided on."

"It is. Thank you so much," said Hermione. "I don't know what I would have done without you."

"Go mad, that's what I think. Though I must say, Narcissa Malfoy wasn't half as difficult as I thought she would be," Katie noted.

Hermione nodded her head. "Yes, I agree. You must think that I was exaggerating how horrid my first few meetings with her were."

"Oh no. I don't think that at all. You're not the sort to exaggerate. Well, so long as the subject isn't exams and how long we have to study for them. Though someone has told me that you're earned more than a few admirers amongst the studious set at Hogwarts because of how you obsessed over them."

"Well, it would have been nice if you had passed that information along to me. I had no idea that the younger Ravenclaws held me in such high regard."

"Oh! I wasn't referring to them! I was referring to your best friends, Harry and Ron."

Hermione glanced over at her friend, and their eyes met. Katie winked broadly at the younger witch, her smile practically daring Hermione to call her out for such a blatant lie.

"Is that so?" Hermione said in a lazy drawl, arching up one eyebrow.

"Well, yes. So long as you equate admiration with the way the two of them groaned about your nagging ways. That's all." The two of them dissolved into giggles. It felt good to laugh again. Hermione couldn't remember the last time she had this much fun with one of her old friends. It seemed that lately the best times for her were spent with Draco.

"Honestly! You should have seen your face," said Katie, gasping for air as she tried to stop laughing. "You looked as though…as though…oh I can't describe it! It was dreadfully funny, however."

"I'm so glad I could be of amusement to you." Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Oh stop that! I'm allowed to tease you," her friend said with a toss of her head. "Which reminds me. Have I told you that you've been picking up some bad habits from Malfoy lately?"

That earned Katie another roll of Hermione's eyes. "Is that so?"

"Exactly! Right there! More proof that you've been spending too much time with him."

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "Well, there's no help for it. I have to spend that much time with him. No one is ever going to believe that we get along, much less are in love, unless we spend time with one another."

"Is that so?"

"Not funny," said Hermione.

"So says the witch who is known for her sense of humor."

"Or lack thereof?"

"It's as though you can read my mind," Katie said. "I don't even have to say it." Her face suddenly adopted a serious mien. "All joking aside, however, either your acting skills have improved dramatically or there really is something growing between you and Malfoy these days."

Hermione looked over at her friend. Katie's hands were in her lap, and she was leaning in towards the younger witch. Sincere concern practically radiated off of her as she watched and waited for a response. The two of them sat in silence. Hermione finally couldn't take it any more and looked away.

"We've agreed to a truce of sorts," said Hermione, choosing her words carefully. "We decided that it would be advantageous to both of us if we ceased hostilities."

"There's a big difference between ceasing hostilities and actually caring for another person," was Katie's quiet reply.

Hermione whipped her head around to look at Katie. "You don't think that—"

"That what? That you're falling for Malfoy?" Katie sighed. "It certainly seems that way. And before you say anything else, your interactions, the way you two automatically search one another out when you're separated at a party, the way he's always touching you and vice versa. It all leads to the same conclusion."

"It's not like that," Hermione insisted.

"I could use a tired, old line about you protesting too much, but I shan't."

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it." Katie bent her head and examined her hands even as she continued to speak. "It's not too terrible though, if you do fall in love with Malfoy."

"What?"

"You heard me. I don't think it would be all that horrid of a fate. Yes, he was an absolute terror as a child, but then I understand why. He was a child, after all, and didn't know any better. From what I've seen of him, he's made great strides towards improving himself. I'm certain that you'll be able to help him in that. And maybe he could help you." She sighed. "No, I really don't think it would be all that bad if you did fall in love with him."

"But I'm not." Hermione didn't know how else to reassure her friend that she wasn't falling for their former enemy.

"It sounds like you're trying to convince yourself more than you're trying to convince me." Katie looked off to the side, sadness brimming up behind her eyes. "But I know. I know how easy it is to fall for someone you spent so much time detesting back in school once you get to know them better and see how loyal they are and loving and…." Her voice trailed off as she became unable to finish her sentence.

That was the Katie that Hermione had expected to see more of. The side of her friend who still grieved for her lost love. It wasn't healthy to repress one's feelings. It also wasn't very easy and Katie let her mask drop.

It was only for a moment though, and when she turned back to face Hermione, she was all smiles once more. "Well, I just wanted to let you know that if you do wind up losing your heart to Malfoy, you don't have to worry about me getting upset, that's all. In any case, we've seemed to stray off topic, and I'm sorry."

"Please." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Since when have we ever managed to stay completely on topic?"

Katie tilted her head to the right as she considered what her friend had said. "True enough. Whenever it's just the two of us, we always seem to find ways to get diverted, don't we?"

"If you're about to suggest that we start asking Narcissa Malfoy to more of these meetings about wedding arrangements to avoid that problem—"

"Oh hell no. Do I look that foolish?" Katie's eyes shone brightly and she smiled at her friend as she continued to tease her. "Just because Mrs. Malfoy is able to take our silliness in small doses, doesn't mean she'll be as pleasant if we subject her to it every week."

"I completely agree. Well, completely so long as you don't include the part about us being silly. We're anything but that."

"Believe that if you want to. Far be it from me to strip you of your delusions," Katie said with a snort. "But to get back on topic, like I was saying, the Ricdeau Group will be providing security for the wedding. They plan to have guards in uniform as well as some amongst the staff. They have also suggested embedding a few guards amongst the guests."

"I see. That would be a good idea," said Hermione. She wrinkled her nose. "The only problem is finding room for them."

"I know. It is a full wedding, and I doubt that many people have sent in their regrets," her friend replied.

"No, I do believe that everyone we've invited will be attending. Amazing, isn't it?"

"Not really when you take into account people's love of gossip. I'm positive that everyone wants to be there just in case something exciting happens."

"Well, I'm rather hoping that nothing exciting happens."

"Of course. Any sensible witch would," said Katie.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "And here I thought that you thought of me as being silly."

"No, no, you're misquoting me." Katie wagged her finger at the younger witch. "I never said that you're silly all the time. Just some of the time. Besides one can be sensible and silly, I think."

"I'm not going to pick apart that statement," said Hermione.

"Good. Because then we'll be here all night. So about having some guards amongst the guests…."

"Yes?"

"There actually is room for additional guests. We can add some guests to either side to accommodate the guards. You see, Solaris always makes certain that there is extra space just in case. You never know when someone is going to take it upon himself to bring more than his plus one."

Hermione turned pale. Now that Katie had mentioned that scenario, it seemed all too likely that there will be a few uninvited guests trying to crash her wedding. "What happens if there's too many?"

"That's when invitations will get checked and people will get turned away."

"Oh." Hermione thought about it. She didn't really like the idea of having uninvited guests at her wedding simply because she was worried about what their agendas might be. "Actually I think it's better just to check invitations before anyone is allowed in."

"That might be difficult. The invitation functions as a portkey for Wizarding folk and so it might back things up in the arrival room if invitations have to be checked before letting people go on out."

"I know. And I wouldn't have suggested that but I am worried about what these surprise guests might do at the wedding." She smiled wanly. "And before you say it, no Harry's paranoia isn't catching. I haven't spent much time with the poor boy since he's been so busy with work."

"I wasn't about to say that. I think you have every right to be paranoid," said Katie. She looked down at her hands, her brow furrowing as a small frown appeared on her face. "The Aurors were here the other day," she said suddenly.

"They were?" Hermione didn't want to press her friend, but she was very curious about what had happened.

"Not Harry or Ron or anyone I knew, unfortunately. The head Auror—Givens was his name I believe?—and a few junior Aurors. They kept asking me questions if I knew anything…." Katie trailed off, and Hermione reached forward to take her friend's hand into her own. She gently squeezed her friend's hand in reassurance before letting it go.

"I'm sorry," she said simply. "It must have been hard to have to go through that. I know how insensitive Aurors can be."

"No. No, it's not that. It's.…" Katie heaved a sigh and her hands began trembling. Hermione awkwardly patted her friend on the back, wondering if she was going to be reduced to tears once more. She thought that it would be good for Katie to let more of her emotions out. It wasn't so healthy to repress them the way the other witch had been doing.

Katie drew a long, shuddering breath to collect herself. She then lifted her head up and looked directly at Hermione. "No, it wasn't as bad as you might think. They didn't ask me anything personal really. Givens said straight away that I wasn't a suspect and that he knew that I was no longer involved in anything Marcus had done. But because I was seen talking with him shortly before…you know"—she made a vague gesture with her free hand—"they had to ask if he had dropped any clues as to his accomplices."

"I see."

"I don't know who those are, of course," Katie continued. "I did see him owling some pure-blood wizards at the owl post, and I told the Aurors those names. They looked happy to have that much." She took another deep breath. "I just wanted to warn you, that's all. I don't know if Terence Higgs or Lawrence Hyral were part of any plot against you or Malfoy. I just wanted to let you know that Marcus had contacted them about something. So you can be prepared, just in case."

"Thank you," said Hermione.

"No worries. It's what I should do." Katie closed her eyes for a moment. Hermione longed to know what her friend was thinking of, but she decided for now it was best just to leave the other witch alone. She would continue to monitor Katie. However, with a little bit of luck, hopefully Katie's emotional wounds would heal over time and no intervention would be needed.

"Moving on," said Katie as she opened her eyes once again, "Your wedding robes will be ready for a preliminary fitting at the end of the week."

"Really?" Hermione was surprised that Ginny had worked so fast. It hadn't been all that long ago when she had gone in to have her measurements taken.

"Yes, well, your robes will be ready. It will take Ginny more time for the bridesmaids' robes, but she said that yours is the most important so she focused on that."

"I'll contact her to see when I should stop by for the fitting then," Hermione said. Once Ginny had been given the job of creating robes for all the witches in the wedding party, she had stopped pestering Hermione daily and had got down to work. However, she hadn't expected Ginny to put all other designs aside to concentrate on Hermione's robes. She was pleasantly surprised to learn that fact.

"Good," said Katie. She twitched her nose and leveled a stern glare at her friend. "And be nice, no matter what you think of the robes. Ginny's worked very hard on them."

"I will. There should be no problems so long as she stuck to the design she sketched," said Hermione.

"There is that. Let's see. What else is there?" Katie looked down at her agenda. "Oh yes! The entertainment. We never did get around to deciding on that."

Hermione sighed. There was still so much work to do for the wedding, even with her friend's help, and that took away from the time she had to work on more pressing issues. She had finally been able to find out who was behind the anti-Hogwarts website. While she had her suspicions that it was a Muggle-born after learning about the website simply because she had trouble believing any pure-blood could master Muggle technology, she had been shocked to find out that Dennis Creevey had been responsible for it. She remembered him as a sweet boy, who always was content to follow his older brother's lead. Hermione wanted to figure out what was the best way to approach him as though she wanted to stop his activities, she didn't wish to do him any harm.

Then there was the more serious matter of learning what Givens was plotting and whether Draco was in any immediate danger. That was what Hermione wanted to focus her energies on. She had worked to hard to let some vigilante ruin all of her work. Not to mention the fact that her fiancé had show remarkable improvement and growth. She wasn't about to abandon him. That would simply be the wrong thing to do, and she wouldn't even contemplate it.

And now there was also Katie's own revelation about possible allies of Flint for Hermione to worry about. She supposed she needed to learn what they were up to as well. She sighed again, more deeply this time. There was still so much to do and so little of her to do everything.

* * *

Hermione waved to a few of the people she recognized as she headed towards Harry's office. Ever since Katie had revealed the names of a couple of wizards contacted by Flint, she had been trying to get in contact with both Harry and Ron to see if those wizards were currently being investigated by the Aurors. She would have preferred not to see them at the Ministry, given how she doubted the privacy of the place, but neither of her friends had replied to any of her urgent owls. As such, she felt that she had no choice but to try and see them when she knew they would be working. Hopefully she would be able to set up some time so she could meet them later outside of Ministry headquarters.

She stopped in front of Harry's office. The door was closed. She tried the knob and found that it didn't turn. A frown appeared on her face. That was very much unlike Harry. Even when he didn't want to be bothered by others, she knew that his office, much like his flat, was charmed to recognize her and allow her access. The only reason that it would be locked was if he wasn't there. She supposed it was possible that he was out in the field, but the last time she had heard from him, he had been complaining about how he was practically chained to his desk at work for no good reason.

Something didn't add up here. Hermione knew without question that if Harry had been allowed back out into the field, he would have let her know about it because that was how he was. Whenever he had good news, he found it practically impossible to keep that news from his best friends.

"What are you doing here?" a gruff voice asked from behind her. Hermione stifled a groan. She recognized the voice. She spun around, crossing her fingers that perhaps this one time her memory had failed her and that she was wrong.

Unfortunately, she wasn't. She had been right. It was the voice of Harry's boss, a wizard who wasn't exactly on friendly terms with her. Givens was still livid with the way she had got her fiancé out of custody even though that was a couple weeks ago. Additionally she remained suspicious of Givens as did Harry. _Nothing good can come of this meeting_, she thought to herself.

"Well?" Givens asked. He tapped his foot impatiently. "I do believe I asked you a question. What brings you to Auror headquarters? And whose permission do you have?"

"I wasn't aware that I needed permission to visit an old friend," she said sharply, finding her tongue. "If you must know, I just dropped by to see if Harry wanted to go someplace to get lunch."

"For your information, our headquarters are under lockdown. No one without prior authorization is allowed here."

"Is that so? I wonder why no one stopped me then." Hermione allowed herself a smug grin. That only served to infuriate Givens even more.

"It's because all the fucking new Aurors here don't know how to do a proper job," he barked. "Clearly our training standards have gone down since we've been so shorthanded. I won't stand for that any longer though." It was his turn to smirk, informing Hermione that she wasn't going to like what he had to say next. "And I do wonder how good friends you and Potter are if he didn't even bother to tell you that he's been sent away from training all this week."

"Harry? Being trained again?" Hermione did her best not to gape. That had to be the most ludicrous thing she had ever heard. Of all the Aurors that worked in the department, Harry was probably the last one in need of more training. His whole damn life had been preparation for being an Auror.

"Him especially. I doubt his trainers took the proper time to teach him how to effectively be an Auror. But that's neither here nor there. Get out."

It was on the tip of Hermione's tongue to tell him to make her, but that was an argument she was bound to lose. As good as she was, she knew that she couldn't take on all the Aurors present single-handedly. So as distasteful as it was for her, she left without saying another word. However, her mind was hard at work, thinking of what Givens could possibly be up to, ways that she could find out, and finally what would be the best course of action to take to counteract any of his dastardly plans.

One thing was for certain. He was going to rue the day that he made an enemy of her. Hermione would see to it.

* * *

**Author's note:** Thanks so much for reading. Please review. It would make my day.

And thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter: lilmzhln18, inadaze22, PotterEntourage, meggie2224, pixifyme, Ceralyn, Alaramine, oneamsoundstage, Chanteur d'ombre, celticscorpion, mlui, wickedwench1, GetItWrite, allycat1186, Blood57, Pfirsich, misssweetsweet, Dame Brittany, dynonugget, kazfeist, MirthFull, and nonentity.


	21. Hunter's Chance

**Ambition's End: Hunter's Chance  
**

**Disclaimer:** None of these characters are mine as they all belong to JKR.

* * *

"Thank you," said Hermione as Ginny finished with the first fitting of her wedding robes. It had taken longer than she had expected, but for good reason. For all her faults, Ginny kept her customer's comfort in mind during the fitting. She had worked slowly, which meant that Hermione hadn't been poked once by a single needle. That was an unusual occurrence that she definitely wouldn't mind happening again, and it spoke volumes as to the other witch's skill.

"Oh no worries," Ginny replied as she put her materials away and the robes back on the dress form. "Do you like it though?" she asked, shyly looking up at the older witch.

"Yes," said Hermione. She nodded her head decisively. Thankfully whatever Katie had said to Ginny weeks ago had got through to the other witch. Ginny had finally realized that her idea of the perfect wedding and Hermione's were different, and the robes reflected that. The initial designs had been too fanciful for Hermione's taste. After the decision had been made to go with Ginny's shop, she had made a point to let Ginny know tactfully that she was afraid that the robes might be too hot. The other witch had readily agreed to modify the set of wedding robes by combining a few of the layers together. The resulting sketches depicted a set of robes that were both simple and elegant, an aesthetic that Hermione truly appreciated.

"Good," said Ginny. She beamed brightly. "Make sure everyone knows that too, okay?"

Hermione sighed. Some things would never change. "That way your shop gets more publicity?" she asked.

"Yes. I know, I know. Sometimes I am a bit much. But you see, fashion is a very hard business to break into, and I have to make use of what contacts I have. Otherwise I will never last." The redheaded witch shrugged her shoulders. "So I'm sorry if I'm annoying, but I really do want to succeed. I would hate it if I had to shut down."

"I understand." And Hermione did understand. She hated failing at anything herself, and she could hardly fault anyone for not wanting to be a failure. "Although you do know that if you need any financial assistance—"

Ginny pulled a face. "I know. Trust me, I know. Both Harry and George would be more than willing to give me any money that I need. But I don't want to do that. I want to be able to succeed on my own. I want my business to be my business, not just some amusement that the men of my life encourage me in."

"It's not the brightest thing to do though, to refuse help if you really need it," Hermione pointed out. "If it comes to that, promise to pay them back."

"Oh no! They would never take it."

"Make them," replied Hermione. She was about to mention how there were always ways to make men listen, but she stopped herself. While she was happy that Ginny was being so manageable these days, she still didn't see the other witch as being one of her close friends. She wasn't going to reveal too much to the younger witch or give her any assistance in learning how to control the men in her life. After all, Ginny already held more influence over Harry than Hermione would have preferred. She wasn't going to do anything that would increase that influence.

Thinking of Harry, however, reminded Hermione about where he was at. She wondered if Ginny knew, and so she decided to ask that question. "By the way, I've heard that Harry is back at Auror training or some rubbish like that."

Ginny's eyes sought out the ceiling. "Unfortunately it's true. It does sound like an awful rumor though, doesn't it?"

"Not awful. Ridiculous. Ludicrous even. Of all the junior Aurors they could have picked! There are plenty of others who need more training than he!"

"I know! That's what I said when I found him packing up the other night." Ginny wrinkled her nose. "He was given no notice too. I wouldn't have found out until after he left if I hadn't decided to drop by and surprise him." She frowned. "Unfortunately, he had a bigger surprise waiting for me—the news that he was leaving straight away—and I didn't like it one bit."

"No, I don't imagine you would. Do you know when he will be back?"

"Sometime this week is all I've heard. The head of his department is being very secretive about everything. Usually Dad manages to hear something about what the Aurors are up to. Ron is an Auror too, you know, and Dad does have other friends in the department. But he hasn't heard a thing." The young witch sighed. "I do hope Harry gets back this week. I do miss him. And Ron too, of course," she added as an afterthought.

"Of course."

"But I was thinking. Maybe there's a reason for all of them getting sent away," Ginny continued. "Maybe it's just wishful thinking, but I noticed that all the junior Aurors who got sent away on this surprise training trip were the more promising ones. Like Harry and Ron and others. Maybe they'll be promoted soon." Ginny's face shone with hope. "Harry would really like that. That would give him lots more leeway in performing his own investigations."

"Maybe that's it. He certainly is worthy of a promotion." Hermione didn't think that was the case, but she saw no reason to disillusion Ginny. There was always the outside chance that the other witch was right. Besides, she doubted that Ginny would believe that Givens was a threat. The redheaded witch was more likely to think the same way her brother did. Weasleys, as a rule, tended to give people who had been on their side during the war the benefit of the doubt.

"Well I have to get going," said Hermione. She absentmindedly straightened her robes as she walked over to fetch her bag.

"There's no rush. You're welcome to stay here if you want," said Ginny. She smiled. "I don't mind having an audience when I work. I know it bothers some people, but not me."

"Thanks, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to pass on that. I promised Draco that I would meet him at Flourish and Blotts after we finished here."

The younger witch raised an eyebrow at those words. "Draco, is it?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "What? Is it so strange that I would call him by his name?"

"No, no, I suppose not." Ginny shrugged her shoulders eloquently. "It would be odd if you didn't, I guess. It's just that…well it's just hard for me to think of him as Draco as opposed to Malfoy. He always was so beastly towards you too, and so it's…it's…oh I don't know how to put this well!"

"Then put it badly," Hermione suggested blandly. She didn't really want to be having this conversation. However, it was important for her to know what Ginny really thought of her being with Malfoy. Ginny had been very supportive in public, even acting as though she was impressed by the romance of it all. She had certainly been all too willing to support Hermione by designing the robes for the wedding party.

However Hermione had noticed that whenever it was just the two of them together in private, the other witch didn't behave the same way. She suspected the way Ginny acted in public was an act, put on in part to avoid a public confrontation with her boyfriend's best friend and in part because of the opportunity that this wedding afforded her fledgling business. But when the witches were alone together, Ginny would often make remarks that could be interpreted as disparaging Hermione's relationship with the Malfoy heir. Indeed, throughout the entire fitting, the Weasley witch had made several comments hinting about how Hermione should feel free to talk if there was anything wrong at all. Thus she needed to know what Ginny's real thoughts on the matter were so she could influence them as necessary. She didn't want Harry's girlfriend to be giving him any bad ideas, after all.

"Fine. When I first heard of your betrothal, I thought it was a joke. And a very bad one at that. But then you didn't owl me back right away to let me know that it wasn't real, and I got worried." Ginny frowned as she turned towards Hermione and away from her work table. "I know you're capable of taking care of yourself. But it seems inconceivable how you could forgive him for all the abuse he put you through back when we all were in school. I can hardly forgive him for all the awful things he's said to and about you. I don't understand how you can."

Hermione took a deep breath. She was glad that she stayed long enough to hear Ginny's concerns. Frankly she had never expected the other witch to be so worried about her. Certainly she had never wanted or asked for such concern. But she supposed that it was just as well. It couldn't hurt Hermione to have the younger witch be as fond of her as she appeared to be. It was always better to have more friends than enemies.

"There's nothing to forgive," said Hermione. She held up a hand, signaling for silence before Ginny could protest that. "I know that we were never friends, and I know that's an understatement. But at the same time, I can't fault him for being such a nasty, little boy. That was the fault of his parents." The corner of her lips turned up in a small smile. "He is genuinely trying to mend his ways. No, that's not giving him enough credit. He has changed so much already, and he really is very charming, and he's a great conversationalist, and…."

"It sounds like you really love him," said Ginny. Her tone was a strange one, filled with equal parts amazement and anger.

Hermione looked down and willed herself to blush. "Maybe," she said. She then looked up at the other witch through her eyelashes. "But you have to admit there's not a better looking wizard out there," she said slyly.

Ginny coughed nervously in response. "I'm not going to do that," she said as she refused to meet Hermione's eyes, instead choosing to focus intensely on the floor. Hermione couldn't help but chortle at that answer.

"No, you wouldn't. That's just as well for Harry though." She stepped forward to take the ginger haired witch's hands into her own. "Don't worry about me. I know what I'm doing. Trust me. I wouldn't bother with Draco if he was still the same bully that he was back in school. He has changed, and I'm ever so glad that I gave him a second chance. Okay?"

"I guess. It's not as though you're going to listen to me anyway," Ginny noted with a small sigh. "If you're happy, then that's what really matters."

"Thank you," Hermione replied earnestly. She proceeded to say good bye to the other witch. She had already wasted too much time there, and she was running late to meet Draco. She quickened her stride as she made her way towards the book shop. Hopefully she had convinced Ginny not to say or do anything to protest Hermione's match with Draco. Even if the Weasley witch did though, Hermione felt confident in her ability to deal with that, no matter how many people Ginny might have convinced to help her.

Approaching Flourish and Blotts, Hermione looked around to see if she could catch a glimpse of her fiancé. A flash of silver caught her eye, and she immediately peered more closely in that direction until she saw her fiancé. It was fortunate that his hair had a tendency to stick out in a crowd. That made it infinitely easier to find him when she had to look for him. She suddenly wondered how he would react if she sneaked up on him. Grinning to herself, she darted through the crowd, doing her best not to draw his attention to her. She quietly approached his back, inwardly gleeful that he hadn't noticed her yet.

"Hello Hermione," he said when she was only a foot away from him. He turned around and winked at her.

She huffed in annoyance and crossed her arms. "How did you know it was me?" she asked. "For that matter, how did you spot me? I know that I was being careful."

"There is nothing more suspicious than someone trying to be inconspicuous," he replied. "Besides of course I noticed you. Your head of hair does tend to stick out in a crowd." He smiled charmingly at her, and Hermione found herself blushing for no reason at all.

_Stop that_, she told herself firmly. _Yes, he's very handsome and all that, but that's no reason to act like a foolish witch. It's not as though you're actually falling for him._ But even though she tried to school her reaction, her blush only deepened as he stepped beside her and snuck a hand around her waist, drawing her closer to him. He bent his head so that it was almost touching the top of her own and inhaled deeply.

"You always smell so good," he told her. "Not at all how I would imagine."

"Do I even want to know—"

"How I used to think you would smell? Like musty old books of course. You were always to be found in the library at school, engrossed in the largest tome you could find." He pulled back from her and winked.

Two could play at that game. "That wasn't question I was going to ask," she said, a wicked smile forming on her lips.

"Oh?"

"I was going to ask how long have you been imagining what I must smell like?" This time it was her turn to toss a saucy wink his way. He coughed and blushed, and he looked utterly adorable. Hermione laughed softly as she stretched up to land a quick kiss on his lips.

However, she wasn't as quick as she thought. Though his first reaction was to let out a soft sigh, his arms somehow circled around her and pulled her closer to him before she could step back. She closed her eyes as she relished how soft his lips were and how good he smelled. It probably would have gone on for much longer if the both of them didn't realize at the same time that they were still in public.

And just like that, it was over. He abruptly released her and stumbled backwards. Simultaneously her eyes flew open and she stepped away from him. His blush returned once more, and she was again struck about how charming he looked when he seemed unsettled. That thought brought heat to her own cheeks, and she forced herself to look away before she could embarrass herself even more.

They stood there silently for what felt like ages. However it was only a few seconds later when Draco cleared his throat and spoke up. "So shall we get going?" he asked awkwardly.

"Oh! I was thinking that we could go inside Flourish and Blotts first. I haven't been for awhile and I know there are bound to be books that I want in there," said Hermione.

"I should think that's the case regardless of how long it has been since you last visited it," Draco noted dryly.

"So you're going to deny me the pleasure of visiting my favorite shop?" Hermione arched an eyebrow playfully at Draco. She was a little annoyed at the mere thought of being so close to the book shop and not going in, but surprisingly only a very little. She could always return later, and the girlish part of her was sort of hoping that Draco already had made other plans for them.

"Perish the thought. I have not the slightest intention of that. I simply want to eat before you lose yourself in the stacks," was Draco's response. "Because I know once you go in, you won't come out again for ages."

"You're exaggerating."

"Not by much."

She couldn't very well argue with that. She knew her own tendencies well. She did have a habit of losing track of time whenever she was surrounded by books, whether she was in a library or a book shop. She checked the time and saw that it was just after lunch. "All right. Let's get something to eat," she said. Then she smiled brightly. "That will give me more energy to peruse their selection once we come back here."

"Of that, I have no doubt. With any luck though, I will have enough energy to wait you out." He reached out and hooked his arm through hers, and then they set off. She let him take the lead as it was clear that he had some place in mind. He expertly weaved through the crowd, taking care to make sure that no one bumped into her.

However, all his care was for naught when suddenly Dennis Creevey simply careened into her from behind. "Ow!" exclaimed Hermione as she stumbled forward and into Draco's back.

"Watch where you're going!" Draco snapped sharply at Creevey as he maneuvered to steady her. The other wizard looked a sight, his eyes wide open and an aura of panic all about him.

"Are you all right, Dennis?" asked Hermione. She had been wondering how best to approach the younger Gryffindor ever since she had learned that he was the one trying to prevent Muggle-borns from going to Hogwarts. She hadn't contacted him yet because she figured that she had until the start of next summer to choose how she was going to handle him. Now, however, she was wondering if that had been the right decision to make. It was fairly obvious that there was something wrong with Creevey.

That only became more apparent as his face lost all color as he recognized who was speaking to him. "Oh! Sorry Hermione. Didn't see you there." He twisted himself about so that he was only facing Hermione. She didn't think it was by chance that he was ignoring Draco. "So sorry, so sorry. I'm sort of in a rush. Well, I'll see you around." And just like that, he darted off before Hermione could say anything else to him.

"I always thought something was wrong with him," Draco mused aloud. "I would go on about how rude he was but clearly he wasn't all there."

"No, he wasn't, was he?" Hermione agreed. A shiver ran down her back. Something was very, very wrong here, not the least of which was the fact that she didn't know what that something was. She immediately switched gears mentally and began looking critically around her. It never hurt to be careful, she decided, and after an encounter like that, she didn't know whose safety she was more worried about—Draco's or her own.

"You know, I don't think I've ever heard you disparage one of your Gryffindors before," Draco was saying as he began guiding her through the crowd once more. "I would have thought that—"

"Pigs would fly first?" Hermione asked wryly. Though she appeared playful, she hadn't let down her guard. She was still watching everyone around them carefully.

"Pigs have flown before, in the Wizarding World. I am positive that you know the spell for that as well."

"Actually you're right. I do." She didn't explain herself further. Hermione frowned. There seemed to be a large crowd gathering towards the Leaky Cauldron at the entrance of Diagon Alley. Draco followed her line of sight and a matching frown appeared on his own face as he noticed the ever-increasing crowd too.

"What is going on over there?" he wondered out loud.

"That's what I would like to know." Hermione grimaced. That was putting it lightly. She dearly wanted to find out what was happening, but her gut was telling her that they were better off not going over there.

"Then let's go," said Draco, tugging at her arm. "I'm curious as well."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I don't think so."

He looked at her sharply. "Why not?"

"Trust me on this one. Whatever is happening, it's not good. And I don't want either of us to get blamed for anything bad that might be over there." She looked up at him and into his steel grey eyes, willing for him to trust her instincts and drop the matter.

He sighed. "Very well. You did agree to eat with me before spending the rest of the day in Flourish and Blotts, so I suppose I owe you that much. Come on. The restaurant isn't far." He started walking forward, holding tightly on to Hermione as he picked his way through the crowd once more. It didn't take too long for them to reach their destination. It was a small restaurant that was practically empty. That was a relief to Hermione. While she didn't shy away from being seen in public, it was tiring to have people always watching you while pretending as though they hadn't noticed you. She never did like being stared at.

_Unless it's Draco doing the staring_, a treacherous voice whispered inside her head. Against her will, she blushed. He had been gazing at her ever since they had taken their seats, watching without saying a word as she looked over the menu. And that damn voice was right, it hadn't bothered her. _That's because it's different_, she argued silently with herself.

_Obviously, _that annoying voice replied. _Different because you're actually interested in him and so you don't mind his attentions._

_More like I have agreed to accept them and so I can't really protest them,_ she argued back. Then she stopped. She was arguing with her own damn self, which was extraordinarily silly. She decided to instead focus her attention on the blasted wizard who had caused such silly behavior, albeit unintentionally. "Do I have something on my face?" she asked sharply. "Or is there another reason you can't stop staring?"

"Sorry," he said. A sheepish look briefly covered his face, and she felt guilty for being so harsh with him. "I didn't mean to stare," he mumbled. "It's just hard to believe…."

"Hard to believe what?"

"That you and I could be like this with neither of us plotting the other's imminent demise." He smiled brightly at her, and her stupid heart started beating faster.

_Stop that_, she told it sternly, but it didn't listen. She sighed softly._ All right, Hermione. I guess you can't ignore it any longer. You are very obviously attracted to him, and it's making you act like a silly girl. Probably because it's been so long for you since you've last been with a wizard._ She sighed again. Unfortunately, she was stuck with Draco. It wouldn't do for her to find relief elsewhere seeing how she was betrothed to marry Draco and all that. She would be faithful to him. She didn't want to have to deal with the fall out that would inevitably occur if she wasn't.

_Besides, who would want to cheat when you have such a handsome wizard sitting across from you?_ Hermione shook her head furiously, trying to stop that train of thought. She had to get better control of herself. She decided a change of topic was the best course of action.

"Yes, well, people grow up," she said to respond to his last remark. Before she could say anything else to change the subject, he spoke up.

"You certainly did." A lascivious smirk appeared on his face as he looked her up and down boldly. She found herself blushing yet again. It was beginning to get a little bit ridiculous.

"Stop that," she told him. "I know that you've been with more beautiful witches than me, so don't even try to pretend that you're taken with me that way. I know better. It's insulting for you to think that you can fool me." She glared at him. Hopefully if she could get him to stop acting so forward with her, it would be easier to control her own foolish attraction to him. That was something she simply had to get a handle on, especially since she knew very well that he only saw her as a valuable commodity and not as a witch.

"Yes," he agreed. "That is true. But Hermione, there is far more to chemistry than looks alone." He shuddered. "Not to mention the fact that sometimes the most beautiful visage hides the most hideous of voices. Thank Merlin your voice is actually attractive."

"Oh?" She cocked an eyebrow at him. "And here I thought I sounded like a bloody nag most of the time."

"Bossy, yes. A nag, no." He shrugged. "I like your voice. It's not high-pitched like most witches, and not at all affected. It's low and calm and dead sexy. I don't even mind listening to your lectures, so long as I don't have to pay attention to what you're actually saying."

Heat returned to her cheeks, and she forced herself to look at the menu. "So what's good here?" she asked, now very desperate to change the subject. She didn't like where this conversation was headed. She also didn't like how she managed to lose control of it. She knew that it was all because there was a part of her that fancied him. She briefly wondered if it was possible for her to seal that part of her away.

Unfortunately that probably would entail the use of dark magic, and there were some lines that she refused to cross. She sighed. She would have to deal with her attraction to him the hard way. By reminding herself constantly of her ultimate ambition and how she couldn't afford to let herself get distracted by a wizard.

Not even an insanely good-looking, charming, sexy wizard like Draco Malfoy.

* * *

Draco had noticed that Hermione had seemed guarded ever since they had run into that rude Gryffindor acquaintance of hers. Her instincts had proved to be superior to his for once as she had noticed the commotion over at the Leaky Cauldron before him. He had wanted desperately to go and find out what was going on, but she had stopped him.

He was grateful for that. After thinking it over, he had come to the conclusion it was better for him to stay away. He didn't want to be blamed for anything he hadn't done, after all, and his experiences with Aurors had taught him that they were all too ready to blame him for anything bad that had happened. He was certain that they would learn what the source of the commotion was when the evening _Prophet_ came out.

So it was he escorted Hermione to a favorite, small restaurant of his. He had promptly proceeded to flirt with her outrageously. He was rewarded by her blushing several times, and it was all he could do not to smirk victoriously. Clearly his carefully planned seduction was already working on her. She was starting to become attached to him just the way he wanted her to.

They headed back to Flourish and Blotts after they finished their meal, just like Draco had promised. The crowd that had been lingering near the entrance of Diagon Alley had dissipated while they were away, much to his disappointment. He had been hoping that some of the crowd members would still be around to talk about what they had seen. He sighed as he held the door open for Hermione. He supposed he would just have to wait for the news to hit the _Daily Prophet_. While the Ministry was still fond of cover ups, too many people had been there for that to happen.

However, a bit of luck struck as they walked past the register. Two witches were chatting with the store clerk, describing what they had seen. Draco immediately pretended to be interested in some nearby books, and he was not surprised to see that Hermione had done the same.

In some ways, they were remarkably alike.

"So what happened?" asked the clerk as he rang up the witches' purposes.

The elder of the two witches leaned closer to the clerk and whispered, "They say that Terence Higgs was found dead in the Leaky Cauldron, that's what."

Draco froze at those words. Higgs had been in Slytherin like him. He had actually played on the Slytherin Quidditch team along with Marcus Flint. Immediately his mind leapt to all sorts of conclusions, not the least of which was that whoever was behind Flint's murder might have went after Higgs. That was especially true if there was any sort of evidence that linked the two Slytherins together. He felt a sudden chill as he wondered who else Flint could have been associated with.

Someone tugged at his arm, and he jolted back to awareness. "I don't think that there's anything I want here," said Hermione, blinking at him. "Shall we get going?"

"Yes," he said. "Of course. Is there anywhere else you would like to go?"

She looked him over with a critical eye, then shrugged. "Not really. Shall I escort you back home?"

It was on the tip of his tongue to protest that he was the wizard in their relationship and he didn't need to be watched over by her. But he didn't. The fact that she had offered to see him home meant that she was concerned about him. That was something he wanted to encourage, not nip in the bud.

Besides a part of him was scared of what might be out there. He wasn't about to admit to it though. He refused to let fear rule him. He was no longer content to remain a scared, little boy.

"I'm fine," said Draco. "I know you must be tired, so please don't feel obligated to drop in to speak with my parents."

She actually looked pained at that suggestion, as though it was particularly distasteful to her. "I'm not all that tired," she said. "But perhaps it is best that I don't go. I wouldn't want to impose on your parents' hospitality."

The two of them left the book shop and parted ways shortly after. For his part, Draco immediately returned home. He Apparated into the foyer of his home where he was greeted by the sight of his father anxiously pacing back and forth.

"Draco!" said his father. His shoulders straightened as relief settled over him. "Thank Merlin. Your mother and I have been worried sick."

"You've heard the news, I take it?" Draco asked.

His father nodded his head. "I believe everyone knows. At least everyone who was on our side. Your mother has been inconsolable, wondering where you could be. Come on. Let's go to her sitting room to see her before she goes mad."

"Why didn't you—"

"Send an owl? Or go looking for you myself? Because you're a grown man, Draco, capable of taking care of yourself." His father grimaced. "You can thank me later for convincing your mother to give you until this evening to make an appearance."

"Just as well Hermione and I ended our outing early today," Draco noted absently.

"Yes." His father lengthened his stride as they approached his mother's sitting room. Two more rights and then they were there. His father opened the door and motioned for Draco to enter, something that almost never happened.

"Draco!" cried his mother as he walked through the door. She got up from her seat and practically flew across the room to embrace him. Draco winced as she hugged him tightly. This was clearly the reason why his father had wanted him to go in first.

"I'm all right, Mother." He awkwardly patted her back. It was embarrassing how much she worried about him even now, but at the same time, it was comforting as well. He never had to doubt that his mother loved him very much.

"Yes, yes, I can see that you insensitive boy." She pulled away from him and took several steps back. "What took you so long? You must have known that we would be worried." She looked accusingly at him.

"I'm sorry. I came as soon as I heard the news."

His parents exchanged a glance. "You mean, you didn't see what happened?" asked his father.

"No, I didn't. I saw that there was some sort of a commotion around the Leaky Cauldron. However, I didn't go and investigate." Draco shuddered, remembering how Hermione had prevented him from doing that. "I didn't want to give the Aurors to pin anything on me, you see. So instead I went on with my business and spent a couple hours with Hermione."

"Excellent," his father said approvingly. "That is exactly what you should have done." His mother shot his father a disapproving glare. Lucius coughed. "Well, except for one thing. You should have found some way to get a message to us to let us know that you're safe."

"You don't think I'm capable of taking care of myself, Father?" Draco asked slowly.

"I hope that when you have children that they are as difficult as you," his father replied evenly. "That is not relevant. Asking that you give us some peace of mind doesn't mean that we think you're incompetent. It's very much the opposite in fact. You are very competent, but even the best of wizards can be taken by surprise." His father paused. "Which is why it is always wise to have someone you can trust by your side."

"Yes Father. I will make certain to remember that." That was no lie. His father was right. No one could predict the future so the cunning wizard always made sure to have an ally who would watch out for him.

Fortunately, once he managed to win Hermione's heart, she would be the perfect candidate for the job. In fact, she already did watch his back. He grinned to himself. He was very fortunate to have such a witch choose him. With her by his side, there was nothing that could stop him.

* * *

He sneered openly as the sobbing, heart-broken parents left Auror headquarters after identifying the corpse. They had only got what they had deserved. They hadn't cared who they had hurt, who they had killed during the war. Now that it was their own son though, they sniveled and acted as though they deserved pity.

They didn't deserve anything like that. He hoped that they lived for years after this, remembering each and every day that it was their choices that had led their son to his doom.

Givens smirked. Everything was going well for him. He was able to put an end to another one of the Death Eater brats without anyone seeing that it was him. He had been worried for a moment, thinking that he had heard someone. But it had only turned out to be a mouse. Nothing for him to be afraid of. He was able to get his job done and then enjoy the fruits of his labor. The only thing that would have made it better was if he had been able to pin the whole thing on the Malfoy brat.

Unfortunately, that simply wasn't possible, even though he had seen the pale bastard loitering in Diagon Alley. He couldn't do that, not so long as the brat was under the protection of Hermione Granger. For that witch had the ear of the Minister, and that made her and hers impossible to get to.

It wouldn't last forever though. Eventually he would find out what hold Malfoy held over a witch who should have disdained him. And once he did then the younger Malfoy's days would be numbered.

He couldn't wait for that to happen.

* * *

**Author's note:** That's it for this update. Thanks for reading. Please review. It would really make my day.

Also my thanks goes out to everyone who reviewed the last chapter: dynonugget, SelectAnother, mlui, Dame Brittany, inadaze22, wickedwench1, oneamsoundstage, HazelFromBehind, shat, Jaid Ziaen, pelagic, halolikeanangel, Chanteur d'ombre, Stine, ebbe04, and Spooky Kat 87. :D I really enjoyed reading each of your responses. Thanks so much!


	22. Force Your Way

**Ambition's End: Force Your Way  
**

**Disclaimer:** None of these characters are mine as they all belong to JKR.

* * *

Hermione watched as Harry devoured the food in front of him. She was grateful that he was finally back as she had decided to stop trying to reach him at his office. She reasoned that she didn't want any of her owls to be intercepted by their prime suspect. So she had wound up leaving a note with Kreacher, asking that Harry floo her once he had some free time. And that was what he did, once he finally got back from his impromptu training assignment, even before letting anyone else know that he was home again.

"Did they feed you at all?" she asked as he continued to tear into his food. She was awed about how much food he could put away. It was amazing, really, that he could eat so much and not get sick. Ron was even worse in that regards, but he too never got sick no matter how much he ate. She thought that it must be a special talent that wizards inherited.

"Just slop," said Harry with a grimace. "And I mean that. Awful, grey stuff that I couldn't identify. It might have been meat."

Hermione shuddered. "Might have been? I can't say that I can blame you for not avoiding the mystery meat."

Harry snorted. "Mystery meat? That's a good term for it. I think mainly that it was old and so you couldn't tell what it was anymore." He blanched at some memory before focusing on Hermione once again. "But go on. Talk. I can eat and listen at the same time. There must be some reason why you wanted to see me as soon as possible."

"I always said you were more clever than you let on." She took a deep, steadying breath and gathered her thoughts. "I take it you've heard what happened?" she said as a preface.

Harry rolled his eyes even as he continued to decimate his food. "No, I haven't actually. I just got back. What the hell happened now?"

"Terence Higgs was found dead at the Leaky Cauldron."

Harry swore fluently at that news, somehow managing to finish his meal as he ranted on and one. She waited patiently for him to calm down. "And of course you suspect Givens," he spat out as he finished his tirade.

"Of course," she agreed. "You were investigating him after all."

"I was?" Harry's eyes were wide with confusion. "Since when?"

She looked at him critically, wondering perhaps if all the food had dulled his senses. However, that didn't appear to be the case. "You mean, you weren't told that he might have been helping Flint out?"

"That's the first I've heard of it. I can see how people might be suspicious because they were both on the Slytherin Quidditch team together. But that's a tenuous link at best. Cormac McLaggen played on my team once, and believe me, I've done my very best to avoid him."

"That makes two of us." Hermione grimaced as she remembered that particular arse. She should have never wasted any of her time on him, not even to try to make Ron jealous. Especially since Ron turned out to be completely unsuitable for her purposes.

"But that being said, I can see how Givens might try to connect the two of them. Higgs's family tree did harbor a few Death Eaters, and he seems to have a large grudge against them."

"It's more than that. Shortly before Flint tried to attack me, Katie said she saw Flint owling Higgs and several other wizards. She told Givens that when he dropped by the question her on the matter. I was going to ask if you had heard about who was being investigated, but when I went to see you, all I found out was that you were gone on a surprise training trip."

"Don't remind me," said Harry. "Evidently they wanted to see how we would react under less than ideal conditions. The less said about it, the better."

"Are you all right?" asked Hermione. His words made her concerned about his well-being. She had noticed that he seemed to be exhausted, but that was the norm these days for all Aurors given how short-handed they were.

"I'm fine. I just didn't really see the point of it, that's all. It was as though we were training for war. But last I checked, that's all in the past."

"Not for your boss."

"Apparently." Harry sighed and then covered his head with his hands. "Blast! Is it too much to ask for a break once in a while?"

"No, it's not. That's why most people agreed with Shacklebolt's actions after the war. It's far better to just to imprison the very worst of the Death Eaters than to have to keep on fighting to lock them all up in Azkaban." Left unsaid was the fact that it really helped that Kingsley Shacklebolt had been held in high regard after the war for everything he had done during it. A less decorated wizard might have had more problems with convincing people that his amnesty plan was a good idea. There had been those that were upset, but for the most part, people understood that it was necessary to stop the violence.

Harry groaned, attracting Hermione's attention once more. "Well, I am too tired tonight to do anything, really," he said. "I'm sorry but I think I'm just about useless right now."

"You're never that. We could have postponed this, you know, so you can get more rest."

"No, no. I want to know sooner rather than later. Maybe it might be a little harder to sleep at night, but at the same time, it will give me things to look for. If you waited until tomorrow…well, maybe I wouldn't be as observant as I should be and miss stuff at work." Harry frowned. "Assuming there is anything to observe of course. That's pure speculation on my part, especially seeing how Givens is very good at covering his tracks."

"He'll make a mistake though. They all do. And when he does—"

"We'll be there to deal with him," Harry finished for her. "Because while I don't like most of the people he's after, I like even less the prospect of this peace coming to an end."

"Well put," said Hermione. "Do you want to meet tomorrow then?"

Harry pulled a face. "No. If I'm not still recovering, I'll be busy seeing everyone that I didn't really get a chance to say good bye to. Let's make it the day after next."

* * *

"Draco! Over here!"

Draco whipped his head around, silently trying to figure out who could be calling him. He had just left Gringotts after inspecting his family's account, and there wasn't anyone who he had planned to meet. A flash of black hair caught his eye. He peered more closely in that direction and grinned once he identified the speaker. He hadn't expected his friend back this soon from his honeymoon, but he was glad to see Theo.

"Theo!" said Draco as he walked up to his friend. "And here I thought you would be gone for at least a month!"

"Thinking or wishing?" was Theo's rejoinder. "I thought I told you that we would only be gone two weeks. Nadia has a new job that she'll be starting shortly, so we couldn't be gone all that long."

"I don't think you did," Draco said.

"Yes, well go on thinking that. I prefer to believe you just have that bad of a memory." His friend grinned at him, and Draco did the same. The two of them often took jabs at one another. Draco could say things to Theo that he really couldn't say to anyone else for they would take such things as serious insults. Theo, on the other hand, knew that he was just joking. It was a nice change of pace to have a friend like that; it got tiring to always have to watch his tongue. With Theo, Draco could be as sarcastic as he wanted to be.

_I wonder if Granger and I will ever be like that. Something tells me that she's the sort to appreciate sarcasm, irony, and everything in between._ That was something he hadn't thought of until now. Maybe if Granger fell in love with him that would give him another person who would appreciate all nuances of his wit.

He mentally corrected himself. It was when Granger fell in love with him, not if. He wasn't going to fail in this.

"And this is just more proof that you never listen to me." Theo sighed dramatically. "Tell me, Draco, have you listened to a single word I said?"

"No," said Draco snarkily. "Once you get started, you're so long-winded, I thought I'd just wait until you've tired yourself out and are ready to get to the point."

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

"There are days when I wonder why I continue to associate with you."

"Funny. That's what I wonder about you."

"I should have seen that one coming," said Theo. "I guess I should just be grateful that Nadia is not here."

"She would agree with me." Draco smiled, knowing that was the truth. He hadn't spent much time in Nadia's company, but that had been enough to know that she loved to tease his friend.

"Great. Just what I needed. The two of you joining forces against me. I will have to speak with your Hermione, I see, to convince her that it's imperative that we form our own alliance against the two of you."

"And that's the crux of your visit today, is it not? I do believe we all agreed to meet up once the two of you were back." The four of them had briefly tossed the idea around when they had all met at the wedding, but Draco hadn't given it much thought until today since he wasn't expecting his friend to be back so soon. Now that the Notts were back, however, he expected that they would want to meet sooner rather than later with him and Hermione.

"Now that's a bloody miracle. You remembering something I told you."

Draco shrugged. "You have a charming wife. You're lucky that she makes up for all your faults."

Theo laughed. "That she does. That she does. But then I could say the same of your own witch. So when would you like to meet? Soon hopefully, otherwise Nadia might blame me for the delay. That's all I need. She already has enough to use against me."

Draco nodded his head as he thought about his schedule. He was supposed to meet Hermione several times this week, in keeping with their previous agreement to start spending even more time with each other. One night, Hermione was supposed to choose their activities, and he knew that it would have something to do with the Muggle world. However, the other nights were open and so it would be easy to work in seeing Theo and Nadia during one of those.

"How about Wednesday or Thursday?" he asked. "We would be able to meet you then."

"Thursday, I think. If only because the last time..." Theo made a grimace and then shook his head. "Yes, Thursday sounds like the best choice."

"Good. Any idea where we should go?"

"Oh, that one is easy. Just at our home." Theo paused. "You do remember how to get there, don't you?"

"Thank you. Now I have an excuse not to show if I decide that I can't deal with your abuse," Draco replied, smirking at his friend.

Theo rolled his eyes. "How many times have I told you not to show the other side your hand?" he asked. "Now I will confirm with both you and Hermione, and I'll conveniently enclose directions to our place in my owl to her."

Draco winced. That was a bad habit of his, and that could lead him into dangerous territory if he didn't watch himself with Hermione. "I'll remember that for next time."

Theo shot him a measuring look. "Yes, you should. That would be very wise considering how other members of our house have been targeted."

Draco instantly felt sober. "You mean aside from Flint and Higgs?"

"And ourselves." Theo looked around before continuing. "There are rumors going around that your lovely fiancée is behind everything."

"That has to be one of the most idiotic things I've heard since—"

Theo held up a hand to forestall Draco's impending rant. "I know, I know. It's bloody ridiculous. Obviously if Hermione had it out for us, she would have let us rot in Azkaban with Flint. We probably would have died in the transfer as well." He took a deep breath. "But there is a lot of fear, right now, and people who are scared don't think straight. So watch out. Not only for your fiancée, but for yourself. Because if people think that you're helping her select her targets…."

Though Theo didn't finish his thought, Draco still knew what he was leading up to. Not only was Hermione in danger, but also him and perhaps his parents as well. However he, for one, was not afraid. He wasn't going to let himself be afraid. He had too much going for him to let fear stop his plans. He was going to win Hermione over. That might put him in some danger, but it was also an opportunity as well. Before he could only think of helping to resolve her differences with Merlose as a method of proving his worth. If he could keep her safe from any attackers, then that would be an even better example of just how valuable an ally he could be to her.

* * *

"Hermione! Over here!"

Hermione whipped her head around to track who was calling her. Bright red hair soon greeted her eyes, and she saw Harry and Ginny standing near the atrium of the Ministry. It had been Harry who had called out to her, though both of them were waving at her.

"Hello Harry. Hello Ginny," she said as she trotted up to them. She tilted her head to one side. "Going out to dinner together?" she asked.

"I'm actually making my apologies," said Ginny. She looked bashfully at her feet. "Not anything for what I'm doing for you, so please don't worry there, but there was another job I had that I…."

"I see." Despite herself, Hermione felt touched that Ginny had put aside other work to concentrate on the robes for her wedding. "I'm sorry," she said. "I feel like it's my fault in a way."

"Oh no," Ginny protested, shaking her head from side to side. "It's my own, really. I thought I ordered one color, and I got another, and…well it all sort of snowballed after that." She heaved a large sigh.

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Yes actually." Ginny looked up and winked at Harry. "He has reservations for some restaurant that he claims that he's been dying to go to. Could you go with him and keep him out of trouble?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "What? Did he perhaps threaten not to behave?"

Ginny snorted. "He may have made some comment about being able to find some company there."

"I am still here, you know," said Harry with some aspersion in his voice.

"I know," said Ginny.

"You do know that was the point when you were supposed to claim you were thinking of taking me all along," said Hermione. Though she wasn't overly fond of Ginny and at times she had thought of how useful it would be to separate her best friend from her, Hermione wasn't going to do that. Not unless it was either absolutely necessary or in Harry's best interest. She had already reaped the consequences of interfering with relationship of one of her other friends. If she had learned anything from what had happened with Katie, it was not to mess with matters of the heart when it came to her friends.

"But I was," said Harry plaintively. "I did see you first, and it was me who got your attention. The two of you just haven't let me say anything."

"I wasn't aware that you needed permission to speak." Ginny turned up her nose and sniffed.

"Enough," said Hermione. She didn't want to witness a spat between the two. "Harry was obviously just joking Ginny. You should know how much he loves you."

Both Harry and Ginny looked flustered at her choice of words, and she had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes. It was almost juvenile, the way the two of them sometimes acted. Harry, she knew, was perhaps a bit wary of showing too much overt affection for fear of what might happen. She wasn't positive about Ginny's point of view, but perhaps the other witch was still hurt from the time Harry broke up with her to protect her. That was something they needed to work out and she couldn't really help them, much like how she couldn't help Ron with his self-confidence issues.

"Well I had best get going," said Ginny after a long and awkward silence. "I'll see you tomorrow, Harry, right?"

Harry nodded his head. "I certainly hope so. I want to see you again before I get pulled off on to another stupid training mission."

"Don't say that. Maybe you'll get promoted to full Auror," Ginny berated him, sounding remarkably like her mother.

"It can't hurt to think positively, Harry." Hermione laid a hand on his shoulder, trying to soothe him before he said something that he would regret.

"Exactly. Now wish me good luck. Because I will need all I can get." Ginny stepped forward to kiss Harry quickly. His demeanor softened as she did so, and by the time she had turn around to leave, he was looking rather sorrowful.

"Cheer up," said Hermione. "If you can't have your girlfriend around, at least you have me."

"Thanks. But you're not as fun as Ginny."

"Harry. I know that you've long thought that I'm an awful bore."

"Oh no. Not that," he protested innocently.

"Please."

"No, really. Sometimes you get rather scary, but you're never boring." He smiled at her. "You're just not as fun as Ginny. I'm not going to get into that, if you don't mind."

Her mind suddenly blanked as she realized what he was referring to. She made a small moue of distaste before hitting his arm playfully. "You prat! I already knew that!" She crossed her arms and stepped away from Harry. "If you don't want me around, you can just say so. I'll be happy to leave you alone so you can wallow in misery since Ginny's not around to keep you occupied."

"No, no." Harry waved his arms in front of him. "I didn't mean to upset you. I just thought…." He trailed off as he realized that Hermione was smirking at him. "You bloody minx. You're not angry at me at all, are you?"

"Of course not! Not for that. Though I must say it is awfully strange how you'll talk that way about your relationship with Ginny, but once anyone mentions love…well, you get all blushing and silent. Are you ever going to grow up?"

"Not if I can help it. I didn't have much of a childhood so I thought I'd make up for it now," Harry replied. He bowed flamboyantly to her. "Shall we go? I don't know about you, but I am rather hungry."

"Both you and Ron always are. I think that's because you're still growing boys."

"Ouch. That one almost hurt."

"Why? Because it's true?"

"I'm not going to try to convince you otherwise. I know better than to get into a semantics argument with you. You never let anyone win. It's a bit like Ron and wizard's chess, now that I think of it."

"Less thinking and more walking on your part would be a good idea, I think. That is, if you're as hungry as you claim to be."

"Really? That's an absolutely brilliant suggestion. I would have never thought of it myself."

She sighed and then reached forward to take his hand. "Enough already. Let's go." Thankfully his appetite finally got the better of him, and Harry didn't make another witty remark. Instead he Apparated the two of them to a street near his flat, one that Hermione didn't recognize.

"Just where are we going?" she asked. She twitched her nose. "Not any place overly—"

"Crowded? Or romantic?" He pulled a face. "Sorry. It's just that I can't think—"

"Of me that way, yes I know. It's the same for me. You're like my brother." She smiled widely at him. "Merlin knows that you get into as much trouble as a younger brother would."

"How many times have I told you? I don't get into trouble. It comes along and finds me." He took her arm and began to stroll down the street.

"Please. You go looking for it because you're too curious for your own good," she cheerfully retorted. Absently she peered into the windows of the various shops as she followed Harry along. Her heart started to beat faster at the sight of a used book shop but it turned out to be closed despite it not even being six o'clock yet. She sighed. For some reason, the used book shops she happened upon always kept odd hours.

"That place is never open," said Harry, figuring out what she was looking at by following her eyes. He tugged at her arm to pull her further away from the shop's window, knowing her tendency to stop and try to peer inside to see what sort of books were there. "I wonder sometimes how they stay in business. But to answer your last question more completely, no. The place we're going to isn't overly crowded. And not really all that romantic, I don't think." He shrugged. "They just have awfully good food, and I thought Ginny might appreciate that."

Hermione looked askance at her friend. "Because you think she wouldn't like a nice, romantic dinner?" she questioned.

"No, no. That's not it at all. Yes, she does like to have dinner out like that. But I've been away and I know she just wants to sit and talk with me for the next few nights we go out. That's all. That's how she usually is after I'm away. It's as though she needs to reassure herself about my coming back to her."

"I see." Hermione did understand what Harry was saying about Ginny's insecurity. She supposed it was only natural. Harry Potter was the most sought-after wizard of their generation, so she could sympathize with Ginny that way. It had to be hard knowing that it would be so easy for Harry to find someone else if he ever got tired of her. Hermione wouldn't relish being in the younger witch's position.

They continued to talk amongst themselves as Harry led the way to the restaurant. In the beginning, Hermione was tempted to see if Harry had found anything else out about their pet theory in regards to the pure-blood deaths. However, she hadn't done so, figuring that her friend needed some time to simply relax and not worry about the rest of the world falling apart. When she had first concocted her plan to guide the Wizarding World into a more peaceful age, she had considered sharing it with Harry. She had decided against it, knowing that her friend wasn't very fond of any sort of manipulation. That was understandable, given how Dumbledore had used him, but she wasn't going to let that stop her. If she didn't make the Wizarding World change, then she doubted it ever would.

Dinner was very pleasant. The restaurant Harry had chosen wasn't busy at all so they could hear one another without having to shout. She found that she was really enjoying herself. It was funny how good it felt just to spend time with Harry, reminiscing about the old days, although truth be told, those days weren't all that long ago. Those days still felt like a different life, and she voiced that thought out loud.

"Back then…that _was_ a different life," Harry agreed. "I don't always have to be watching my back these days."

She cocked up an eyebrow at him. "I take it then that you don't heed to the creed of constant vigilance?"

"That gets tiring at times. It wears one down and eventually you lose your edge. Sort of defeats the purpose, if you ask me." He shrugged his shoulders. "Unless there's a specific threat to me or to someone I'm with, I don't see the point at jumping at shadows."

"Just how did you get your reputation for being paranoid?" she wondered out aloud. "Particularly as that's a very reasonable way to look at things." She looked directly at him and then smirked. "Oh! That's right. That's because you always think that there's some sort of threat to you."

"Not always," he mumbled. "I think I'm safe, right now. And it's not me who I'm worried about."

She fell silent then, not sure how to address her friend's fears over her safety. It was a bit odd, to think that Harry was worried about her and maybe even losing some sleep over such fears. She remembered back when she was at Hogwarts that part of the reason why she would stay up so late studying was because it was either that or tossing and turning in bed, fraught with fear over Harry. It was sort of ironic, she thought, for their situations to be reversed.

"Now you know how I felt all those years," she finally stated. She couldn't help but toss a triumphant smile his way.

"I wouldn't go quite that far. I doubt that I can live up to the standard you set for being a worrywart."

She rolled her eyes. "You couldn't even come close. Because worrying about your friend who has an insane lack of regard for his own safety is entirely different from being so paranoid that you see threats everywhere."

"Ouch." He winced. "I should know better than to try to win a verbal argument with you."

"Or any other, for that matter." And just like that, the two of them managed to change the subject of their discussion to something more trivial. They argued back and forth over each other's faults, smiling and laughing the entire time. That was one of the best parts about being such good friends. They could literally say anything to one another.

Two hours passed with Hermione lightly teasing Harry and vice versa before either realized it. When she realized how late it was, she knew it was time to get going. She knew that the both of them had full days ahead of them tomorrow, and so they shouldn't linger at the restaurant just talking with each other any longer. Harry agreed, although after he tried to convince her to stay put a little longer by putting on a sad face. She smiled at his antics and gently told him no.

"Sometimes, you are no fun," he said.

"Which explains why you've spent the last couple of hours just talking with me," Hermione noted.

"Well, there was some food involved as well, I believe. Not to mention the fact, if I don't try to enliven your life, who will?"

"I don't think I need any help there, thank you. A boring life doesn't sound that bad."

"So says the witch who—" He was stopped from completing his sentence by her treading on his foot. "Ouch!"

She shook her head at him. "I had a feeling I wasn't going to like what you were about to say," she explained. "And stop that! I know you're not that hurt!"

"It's almost funny how you don't know your own strength." He winced. "In fact, it would be funny if you had done this to anyone but me!"

"Since when did you become so delicate?"

"I'm not. It's like I said. You're stronger than you think you are." He waved at the waiter for the bill. Once that was paid, he insisted on Hermione walking him home, saying that since she had injured him so that she owed it to him to make sure that he got home in one piece. She rolled her eyes at his shameless pandering. To her, it was obvious that he really wasn't hurt. It was simply an excuse to get her to return to his flat and Apparate back to her own place from there. She wound up agreeing with her friend because she didn't see any harm in doing so.

After all, Harry did worry about her and her safety. It wouldn't take that much longer for her to return home if she went back to his flat first, so she felt that she would do so to put his mind at ease, at least for a little while. She knew all too well how hard it was to worry about a friend and not to be able to do much to help that friend.

That was how she felt about Harry back when in school. She could readily believe that was the same way he was feeling now, seeing how little progress was being made in determining whether there was anyone else involved with Flint's scheme to kill her. Hermione didn't think so; Flint had his own reasons to hold a grudge against her but she couldn't explain that to Harry without him getting some inkling as to what her ultimate ambition was. Since her hands were tied in that regard, the least she could do was to agree to his suggestion.

The night air was cool and brisk. It felt good against her skin as they stepped outside from the restaurant, and she found that she didn't mind at all walking Harry home, not when the weather was so pleasant. There was a slight breeze, but not so much as to make it chilly. Between the moon and the street lamps, there was plenty of light to see by. She ran a few steps ahead of Harry and then twirled around, content to take in all the sights around her as the breeze fluttered through her hair.

"Happy?" asked Harry. He stood a few paces away from her and was watching her with a small smile on his face.

"Yes," she said. "I don't know why, but tonight, I'm very happy." She sighed cheerfully.

"That's good."

Hermione was about to reply to him, when suddenly, her heart rate sped up. Something felt _off_, and her good mood evaporated into thin air. She dropped her arms to her side, her right hand automatically seeking out her wand even as she tried to determine just what had changed to put her senses on alert. From the look on her friend's face, Harry felt it too. His demeanor became serious, and his wand was already in his hand.

"Come here, Hermione. I think we're being followed," he said, gesturing to her with his free hand.

Yet even as he was extending his hand to her, Hermione could feel their heretofore hidden watcher launch from his hiding place and start to make his move. She immediately dropped down and a mere second later, a slicing hex went through the space she had previously been in. Years of habit had her rolling to her right while drawing her wand before she got back up on her feet. Even though she knew that she could count on Harry to take care of himself, her eyes automatically sought him out to make sure that he was all right.

Of course he was, and he had already started his counterattack. Their attacker somehow dodged the _Expelliarmus_ Harry tossed his way. Before their assailant could throw another hex at Harry, Hermione sent a stunning curse straight at him. He dodged that one too, much to her surprise, but unfortunately for him, that meant he ran into the stunner Harry had cast right behind hers.

And just like that, it was over. She panted heavily, her heart pounding in her ears as adrenaline continued to run through her veins. "Who was that?" she asked in between breaths.

Harry shook his head, also breathing heavily. "I don't know. He looks familiar but I can't put a name to the face."

"Same here." Hermione warily approached the wizard who had attacked them. With a flick of her wand, she bound him. She didn't want to take any chances of him getting away. She didn't think that the wizard's reasons for attacking her were the same as Flint's. She doubted that Flint had been able to convince anyone that she was the reason that Katie had refused him, and even if he did, she didn't see why that would upset any of his friends enough to want to kill her. She thought it was more likely that his compatriots thought that she was behind his death and the death of Terence Higgs somehow. The best way to confirm her suspicions would be to interrogate him directly, before anyone could interfere.

However, that was not to happen this evening as the telltale popping sound of Apparition filled the air around them. Dozens of Aurors filled the small alleyway, and she had to repress a groan. It was almost uncanny how the Aurors managed to arrive not once, but twice, after all the action was over and the danger had passed. All the training in the world wouldn't mean a thing if they kept on being late to the party.

Of course, that might have been the point of the training. Hermione shook her head, silently tossing that thought aside. If that had been the case, Harry would have complained about it to her by now. She sighed as a pair of Aurors came up to her and asked that she come back to headquarters to give a statement, while looking awed just to be in her presence.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Thanks so much for reading. I would love it if you would leave a review. Sorry for the wait, but there were a couple other fics that were just begging to be worked on first. Or rather, finally after I've been putting them off forever.

Much thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter: Dame Brittany, Jaid Ziaen, inadaze22, twin-v, politik780, MooGrl217, mlui, shobbs, shat, dynonugget, karaburnes, Chanteur d'ombre, MirthFull, Nymphicus, BDSanta2001, Smartgirl13w, misssweetsweet, oneamsoundstage, nonentity, kazfeist, TheDreamerLady, and Kou Shun'u.


	23. Never Look Back

**Ambition's End: Never Look Back  
**

**Disclaimer:** None of these characters are mine as they all belong to JKR.

* * *

Three hours later she regretted being so right about how long this night was going to be. She wouldn't have minded too much if she had been wrong, although she would never be able to convince either of her best friends of that fact. She sighed and took another sip from her cup of coffee. She glowered across the small holding room she was in and at the door, which stubbornly remained closed. This had gone on for long enough. She had just about had it. If they weren't going to take her statement any time soon, she was going to go home, one way or another. She smirked to herself as she took another sip of coffee, happily entertaining thoughts of breaking down the door and storming out with her wand in hand.

Just as that thought crossed her mind, the door swung open. Her mouth briefly twisted into a frown as Givens stepped in, followed by several other Aurors she did not recognize. She quickly reasserted her self-control, and her face adopted a pleasant mask.

"Good evening," she said. "It's so nice that you gentlemen were able to take time out of your busy schedule to visit me."

Givens shot her a look full of something she couldn't recognize. It wasn't loathing, although she had been suspecting that. Rather it seemed like some sort of combination of sympathy and disgust. He casually pulled out the chair across from her and sat down on it, his gaze never leaving her face. She coolly returned his stare and waited for him to reply.

The silence between them stretched on, as they each waited for the other to make the first move. One of the other Aurors in the room coughed, but neither of them bothered to pay attention to that noise. Finally after several minutes had passed, Givens leaned back in his chair and offered Hermione a smile.

"You have my thanks, Miss Granger, for being so patient," he said genially. "I am sorry that it has taken this long for us to get to you, but you surely understand that I simply want to leave no stone unturned in our investigation."

Hermione simply nodded her head in reply, wondering why he was acting so friendly towards her. Givens continued speaking, "Will you please recount to us the events of this evening as they unfolded?"

Hermione took a deep breath and then went into detail about everything that had happened. As she spoke, one of them took copious notes. She made certain to point out the fact that both she and Harry realized that there was someone following them. None of the Aurors present interrupted her tale.

"And that was when you came in," she said. Idly she stretched her legs under the table, wishing for a glass of water. She wasn't about to ask for one or accept one if offered, because she didn't trust what might be in that water.

"Thank you," said Givens. He paused and snapped his fingers. The Auror who had been taking notes quickly placed those in front of him. Givens perused them for a moment and then without looking up asked, "Do you know of any reason why Richard Montague would wish you harm?"

The name clicked inside her mind, and she quickly realized that it matched the face of her attacker. She cleared her throat before speaking. "No, I don't," she replied.

"Do you know if Montague has any connection with your previous attacker, Marcus Flint?"

"I believe they were both in Slytherin and on the Quidditch team, but aside from that…." Hermione shrugged her shoulders eloquently.

Givens frowned as he scribbled something down on the parchment before him. "Yes, yes," he said. He looked up and straight at Hermione. "We realized that as well." Suddenly he stood up and turned around to face the other Aurors, gathering up the notes as he went. "Here," he said to the one in front. "Take these back to Sigurd. Maybe there's something in here that will help him with his interrogation. The rest of you can go off duty, although I'll expect you to report in for your normal shift."

"But sir," said one of them, "protocol dictates that…."

"I know what protocol dictates," the older Auror replied quietly. "Miss Granger has completed giving her statement, however, and so there is no more need for the rest of you to be here. Now I suggest you leave…not unless you really want to volunteer for extra guard duty shifts." That threat was dire enough to send the rest of the Aurors fleeing from the room.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Givens as he walked to the door and made sure that it was shut. He turned back around and she quickly regained her composure. "Now that those fools are gone," he said, as pleasantly as ever, "we can get down to business."

"And here I thought we were just about finished," she said wryly.

"When it comes to your statement, we are. Unless of course, you just remembered something you forgot to mention earlier." Hermione shook her head no and he continued. "I didn't think so. Nor do I think that it could have escaped your notice that both of your attackers played Quidditch together with your fiancé."

She didn't like the sound of that. "Many wizards played Quidditch while they were at Hogwarts, if they were good enough to make it on to their House team," she said.

"Really Miss Granger? Is that what you think?" He made a tsking noise at her with his tongue as he paced back and forth before the table. "I didn't think that you were that naïve."

"I don't consider myself naïve. I also don't think that Draco has anything to do with these attacks," she said.

Givens stopped in his tracks and furrowed his brow. "Tell me, Miss Granger, did Balthazar Merlose ever inform you that one of his oracles predicted an attempt on your life on the same day that your betrothal became official?"

"No, he didn't." She inwardly smiled. Merlose had never done so, but she had plenty of warning about that from her friends.

"I see. Strange to think that he wouldn't treat one of his most promising recruits better," Givens said more to himself than to her. "But that's neither here nor there. Does that bit of information make you—"

"More inclined to blame Draco for the acts of his former housemates? Hardly," she said with a sniff. "If all you're going to do is cast aspersions on his character, then you're wasting both my time and yours. There is nothing you have that can make me believe that he was behind these attacks."

"Pity." The wizard gestured towards the door. "You may leave then, Miss Granger. There is no need for you to tarry any longer. Just please keep in mind…we can protect you if you trust us."

She started at those words. "What is that supposed to mean?" she asked bluntly.

"I should think that the meaning is obvious," was his reply.

She snorted. "If it was, then I wouldn't ask."

He inclined his head. "It is clear to me that Mr. Malfoy has some hold over you. I don't know what that is, and frankly I don't need to know what it is. Whatever it is, I am certain that we would be able to negate that advantage he has over you, if you would only give us the chance." He grinned smugly. "You don't have to continue suffering with that albatross across your neck. I promise you he would be locked up before he could even think about getting back at you."

Hermione stood up, drawing herself to her full height. "Regardless of what you might believe, Auror Givens, I assure you that my fiancé is holding anything over my head." She tossed her head and walked out in a huff. She hadn't liked anything that Givens had implied. While Draco might think he had blackmail material over her, he didn't really. She knew how to take care of him, and she didn't appreciate Givens' insinuations that she wasn't able to do so. That was part and parcel of how he had dismissed her as being a hysterical female the night Flint had attacked.

Moreover, she didn't like how he tried to get her to turn Draco in. It seemed as though he would be willing to arrest Draco on the flimsiest of excuses. As she made her way home, she pondered how best to warn Draco that the head Auror was out to get him.

* * *

Draco ignored the stares that came his way as he maneuvered through the Ministry. He was very much used to being the center of attention. His parents had made it perfectly clear to him when he was young that he should expect people to always be watching him because of his name and his fortune. He had learned from an early age to always behave accordingly in public. If he smiled at someone openly, it was because he wanted it reported back that said person was in his favor. Likewise if he frowned at someone, it was because he wanted malicious rumors to circulate about that person.

And if he was seen storming through the Ministry towards his fiancée's office, it was because he wanted everyone to know that he was concerned about her well-being. Which he honestly was, although he was a bit surprised about that. When he had read in the _Prophet_ this morning about another rogue wizard attacking his Hermione, he had cursed at the breakfast table, bringing down the ire of his mother upon his head.

He had apologized, of course, but he had spent the rest of breakfast lost in thought, practically obsessing over the question of whether Hermione was all right. Half of him was simply worried about her and hoped for the best while the other half of him fumed that she hadn't bothered to contact him so he wouldn't have to worry about her. Common sense told him that she was fine as there was no report of any injuries to her or Potter. Besides, she had been with Potter. Even though Draco didn't care for the other wizard, he had to admit that Potter was one of the best duelists he had ever seen.

He sighed as he reached the corridor leading to her office. Unfortunately he had an early morning meeting that he was unable to reschedule so he wasn't able to visit her until now. Draco supposed that if she was feeling up to it, he would offer to take her to lunch. Perhaps only at the manor, since he knew that was safe. The fact that his mother wouldn't be in also counted in its favor.

Before he knew it, he was standing in front of Hermione's office. He rapped sharply on the door and stepped back to wait for her response. When none came, he knocked again but this time more urgently. There was still no response. He checked a sigh as he remembered that he was in public that and people were watching him. It wouldn't do to have people believe that Hermione didn't want to see him. That wasn't the sort of impression he wanted to leave on the public.

_All right, maybe I should have owled her before coming over. But how was I to know that she wouldn't be answering her door?_ He furrowed his brow as he considered the options before him. He decided to knock one last time before he tried something more drastic. He hoped that would work. His instincts told him that he didn't really want to try and force his way in to her office.

Fortunately for him, the third time was the charm. Hermione practically flung the door open, ready for anything with her wand in hand. Her eyes widened and he knew that she was surprised to see him. "Oh!" she said, blinking. She stepped back and calmly returned her wand to its holster. "Sorry," she said. "It's just that…."

"No, no. You don't need to apologize." He offered her a wry grin. "Seeing what happened last night, I'm glad you don't let your guard down, not even while safely in the confines of the Ministry."

She shot him a look of disbelief at those words. Clearly she remembered just how safe the Ministry was during the war. She didn't bring that up, however, and settled for changing the subject. "So what brings you by today? Did we have something planned? Because I honestly thought we didn't." She crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for his answer, her attitude implying that he had better have a good one for bothering her.

He raised an eyebrow at her and nodded towards her office, silently asking her to let him inside so they could continue this conversation in private. Draco hadn't expected things to go this way, and if they were going to have an argument, then he at least wanted to have it in the privacy of her office. Thankfully she acquiesced by walking back towards her desk. She motioned towards the seats on the other side of desk to indicate that he should sit down, which he promptly did. Once the two of them were seated, he proceeded to answer her question.

"No, you're right. We didn't have anything planned. I just wanted to drop by and see you." He looked straight at her before continuing his explanation. "Is it really so shocking that I might be worried about your well-being after everything that's been printed in the papers today?" he asked.

She twitched her nose, a gesture that he found adorable. Her eyes softened and a small smile tugged at her lips. He knew then that at least some small part of her believed him—and he rather thought it was more than just a small part. He answered her smile with one of his own as he relaxed back in his seat. They weren't going to fight, at least not today.

"I suppose not," she said. "Sorry," she said again, casting her eyes down and away from him. Draco had to restrain his urge to grin. She seemed genuinely apologetic, which was a good thing for his plans. A very good thing, in fact.

"You don't have to apologize," he replied. He leaned in towards her in order to be more convincing. "It must still be second nature for you not to trust me." He quickly held up a hand to silence her protestations. "Let me finish. I'm not trying to blame you for that. It's only natural, given the history between us. I should have sent an owl ahead to warn you that I was coming."

She shook her head slowly from side to side. "Yes, perhaps that might have been a good idea. But I think that I am equally at fault for not owling you last night to let you know not to worry." She sighed ruefully then. "Or rather very early this morning, given how long the Aurors took to get to me."

He pulled a face at her words, not liking what they implied. His family had been at odds with the Aurors even before the war had ended. He originally hadn't thought it possible for that grudge to be transferred over to Hermione, especially as her two best friends were Aurors themselves, but maybe he was wrong there. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do about that at the moment, seeing how he wasn't exactly a favorite of theirs either. The only thing he could do was to try and speed things up with Hermione, so they could start plotting together sooner rather than later.

"Do you feel up to going out to lunch?" he asked after a moment of silence. She pursed her lips together briefly as she considered his offer before nodding her head.

By the time she finally returned home that evening, she was absolutely exhausted. She dragged herself through her flat and to her living room. She stopped in the doorway, mentally debating whether she should go make herself something to eat before she wound up falling asleep. _No_, she told herself silently. _Seeing how tired I am...no, I don't think I should try cooking anything. Who knows what might go wrong?_

That decision made, she promptly collapsed on her sofa. She stretched out her limbs and sighed. For awhile there, she had thought this day would never end. She had known when she had first arrived at work that it wasn't going to be a good day. She had been simply too tired for that. Unfortunately, it seemed that everyone had decided that they needed to check up on her so she had been constantly interrupted in her work, to the point where she could hardly read a word of her research materials.

So it was when someone had once again started pounding on her door, she wasn't in the best of moods. She had fully intended to hex the thoughtless fool only to find that Draco was there to check on her. Hermione cringed at that memory. She flopped around so that she was lying on her stomach and buried her head in her arms.

She had been so rude to him when she had first seen him today. And all he had been doing was trying to make sure that no harm had come to her. It was what any wizard would do upon hearing that his fiancée had been attacked the night before. And of course, if she had been thinking, she should have owled him to let him know that he had nothing to worry about.

As it was, she hadn't done that. To make it worse, she had been on the verge of starting an argument with him for the entire Ministry to see simply because he had dropped by while she was out of sorts. That behavior was simply unacceptable. That was especially true given that the two of them had agreed to a truce. They were supposed to try and get along. Draco was clearly living up to his end of the bargain. It was Hermione who wasn't meeting her obligations.

She turned back around so that she was on her back once more. She blinked rapidly, determined not to give in to the sudden spate of tears that had burst upon her, as she stared up at her ceiling. If she was perfectly honest, she knew why she had been so rude to him. She knew why she still greeted him with suspicion when he dropped in on her without advance notice.

It was because of her blasted attraction to him.

It was a dangerous thing, and she knew it. However, she couldn't help but feel drawn to him. To counteract it, she had tried to distance herself from him although she didn't think it was doing much good. And on top of that, doing so only made her feel guilty for not keeping to the spirit of the agreement they had reached. Her greeting of him this afternoon was more or less the same as the one she had given him the evening they had made that agreement. Both times she had been cold and had practically demanded an explanation for Draco being on her doorstep.

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Clearly she had to change. She couldn't go on acting so coldly towards him. She did want to get along with him after all, seeing how they were to spend the rest of their lives together. And she had thought that it would be easier to be his wife if she was attracted to him. _I guess I just have to accept it,_ she thought to herself. _Accept the fact that he's handsome and charming and I can help but want him. _

She groaned out loud. Something told her that she was treading in dangerous waters here. The cynical part of her was very suspicious as to why Draco wanted to advance their relationship. It warned her that this was his way of maintaining a more intangible form of control over her.

She pushed those thoughts aside. Yes, it did seem likely that Draco had an agenda of his own. It might very well be that he simply wanted marital harmony with her and thought that this was the best way to get that. He might have other motives also, such as seeking to control her and her actions by making her fall in love with him. But it wouldn't work. She was a strong witch. Even if she did fall in love much the way Katie had warned her about—and she hated to admit it, but that possibility was becoming more and more likely—she would never be a puppet for him to manipulate. She wouldn't let anything or anyone get in the way of her plans.

* * *

Harry frowned as he looked at the occupants of the room. For some reason, Ginny had decided to call an emergency meeting of the friends of Hermione, the impromptu group she had formed upon learning of Hermione's betrothal. Its ranks were much depleted. It seemed that most of their former classmates had come to terms with the fact of Hermione's betrothal to Malfoy. The only ones present were himself, Ginny, Ron, Neville, and Katie. Even Luna had begged off, claiming that she had prior plans to catch some manner of odd creature. He hadn't really been paying attention to the Ravenclaw witch when she had flooed earlier to make her excuses. It wasn't one that he would use himself, after all, and so of no use to him.

"You know, if you're going to drag us here on no notice, the least you can do is fix dinner," Ron complained from his corner. Harry suppressed a grin. One thing that would never change about his irrepressible best friend was his appetite.

"Please. Even if there was something here, I know that you would be stopping on your way home for something else to eat," Ginny sniffed haughtily.

"There is that," Ron replied evenly. "But I'll probably wind up eating more now since there's nothing here for me to stave off my hunger with."

"Enough," said Harry wearily. While he adored his girl friend and was rather fond of his best mate as well, their sibling rivalry got very old very fast.

"Yeah," Neville chimed in. "If you two keep at it, we'll never get anything done."

"Which means you'll go hungry for longer," Harry added with a pointed look at his best friend.

Ron huffed and crossed his arms together. "Yeah. But only because my sister's a thoughtless, heartless—"

"Don't finish that." Harry stared at his friend, his eyes warning the other wizard of how thin his patience was. That gave Ron pause. He glared one last time at his sister before looking away, signaling that he was done with the argument for now. Undoubtedly he would bring it up again the next time the two siblings were at odds with one another.

"So why did you call us all here, Ginny?" Katie asked, effectively changing the subject. "I thought that we had more or less given up on trying to change Hermione's mind."

"We have," Ginny said. "I don't think it's possible for us to get her to reconsider her decision."

A smile appeared on Katie's face. "I do believe that was what I said when we first got together."

"Yes, well, that's neither here nor there. The point is that unless we have some concrete evidence that Malfoy is bad for her, Hermione is not going to change her plans. And there's more pressing concerns for us to worry about when it comes to her."

"Like her safety?" Neville surmised.

Ginny nodded her head sharply. "Yes. That's it exactly."

Harry exchanged a glance with his best friend. It was clear that Ron had no idea what awful idea Ginny was about to propose. He sighed. He really wished that Ginny would run her ideas by him first, particularly when they concerned one of his best friends.

"What do you think we can do about that?" asked Neville. "I'm fairly certain that Hermione won't be amenable to any idea that limits her freedom."

"And that's putting it lightly," Ron added as an aside.

Ginny stamped her foot. "Honestly! You boys act as though you're scared of her! Isn't she your friend?"

The three wizards shared a glance, each silently urging one of the others to be the fool to answer that. Finally Harry took a deep breath and decided to take a chance. "She is our friend. But Ginny…Hermione can be right scary when she puts her mind to it."

"And that is really putting it lightly," Ron muttered.

"Not helping here," Harry noted mildly. "Gin, it's not as though we don't care about Hermione or her safety but—"

"She is capable of taking care of herself, it seems," Katie suddenly put in. "It hasn't escaped my notice that she's held her own in both attempts on her life."

"She had help. Both times," Ginny said.

Katie tilted her head, thinking about her reply. "Yes, she has. The first time was probably when she needed help the most. I know that she knows now that there's some people out to get her. Did she seem to really need your help the other night, Harry?" Katie's question made Harry the focal point of their small group once more.

He gulped nervously. "It's hard to say," he said. "We did work together to take Montague down, but I think that's more of habit than anything else. We're use to working together in situations like that." Ginny shot him a glare, evidently not pleased with the memories he was bringing up. "But I don't think that she needed my help. She knew that there was someone out there. She could have taken care of Montague all by herself if she had to."

"That doesn't mean that as her friends, we should be concerned about her health and safety."

"We are concerned. Very concerned," asserted Ron. "But that's the thing, Ginny. You need to understand that with Hermione, you have to be careful with the way you put things. If you try to push her into doing something, she'll only get more stubborn."

"And she's not going to even bother to continue listening to you if she doesn't like what you're saying," Katie agreed. She quirked up her eyebrow at the other witch and a smug grin appeared on her face. "You've had experience with that, Ginny."

Ginny flushed suddenly, and Harry wondered what that particular exchange meant. Clearly Katie was referring to something that only the two witches knew about. He wondered if there was some other time when Ginny had been overbearing and tried to get Hermione to do something she didn't want to do. It was possible, he supposed, as he was hardly one to monitor everything that went on between Hermione and Ginny. He sighed. If that was the case, it was too bad that his girlfriend hadn't learned her lesson back then.

Well, he loved her and he supposed that meant he should try again for her sake. "You see, Ginny, we're all worried. Very worried."

"Who wouldn't be? What with everything that's happened to Hermione so far?" Ron interjected.

"That's exactly my point! And that's why I thought we all should meet, so we could help her out somehow."

"I really hate to say this," said Harry, "but I don't think there's much of anything we can do to help." He rushed on to explain what he meant before she could interrupt him. "No, I don't like it any more than you do. Probably less in fact. Hermione is _my_ best friend, not yours. But that's the truth, and there's nothing I can do to change that."

"He's right, Ginny," said Ron even as his sister began to protest. "It's something you should have learned long ago back when…well, never mind that. But it's true and as much as I hate it, I have to learn to accept the fact that sometimes there really isn't anything you can do to help."

Ginny looked down and away, and Harry knew that she still wasn't convinced. He drew a large breath in preparation for trying again, but to his surprise, Katie spoke up before he could.

"They're right, more or less. At the moment there's nothing we can do to help Hermione. Anything we offer, she's not going to accept. If I suggest or you suggest or even Harry or Ron suggest…well, she's likely to be insulted. She'll think that we think she can't take care of herself. And that'll make it harder to do anything once it's possible," Katie said quietly. "It's much better to stay in the background for now and let her know that if she needs anything from us, then all she needs to do is ask."

"But she already knows that!" Ginny replied stridently. "That's just the same as doing nothing!"

"No, it's not the same. She probably does know it, but it doesn't hurt to remind her of the fact," said Katie. "You never know when she might come up with an idea of how we can help her."

"She is the brightest witch we know for a reason," Harry agreed. Somehow that didn't sit well with Ginny either. He sighed. Sometimes he really didn't like her need to be not only the center of attention, but in charge of everything as well. "And that's that, Ginny. We're not going to do anything that might make Hermione cautious of what she confides in us."

"Of course, if we learn something new…well that may change things," Ron added. "And possibly our only choice then would be to act."

That finally seemed to do the trick. A victorious smile crossed Ginny's face as she nodded with satisfaction. "That's what we'll do then," she said, as though the idea had been all her own. "All of us will keep our ears open. Who knows what we might hear in the most unlikely of places? And when one of us does find something out, we'll meet again."

Harry suppressed a sudden urge to groan. He didn't want any more meetings like this. However, he kept his mouth shut, knowing that contradicting his girlfriend would only prolong the agony. He had no plans whatsoever to convene everyone together for another meeting when he found something out. No, instead once he had the slightest clue who was behind these attempts on Hermione's life, he was going to do something about it. He smirked suddenly. _Or more like do something to the bastard pulling the strings_, he amended mentally.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Thanks so much for reading. I would love it if you would leave a review. Just so you know, I don't think there will be an update next week because it looks like I will be very busy. I do plan to update the week after though.

Finally thanks so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter: Dame Brittany, oneamsoundstage, TheDreamerLady, ebbe04, twin-v, wickedwench1, inadaze22, Chanteur d'ombre, misssweetsweet, branwen, Pfirsich, dedanaan, Laredman, Jaid Ziaen, shat, dynonugget, IIO, Blood57, karaburnes, Sises, and Turtle's Chopsticks. :D I really appreciate it so much. :D


	24. Dead End

**Ambition's End: Dead End  
**

**Disclaimer:** None of these characters are mine as they all belong to JKR.

* * *

Draco drummed his fingers against the grain of his rosewood desk, his lips twisting slightly into a frown as he read his company's updated reports. Though profits were up in all sectors, some parts of his company had failed to meet their quarterly goals. His frown turned into an all out glower as he sketched a note to meet with the head of their charms division to demand an update to said division's three year plan. It was blatant that unless market conditions changed dramatically that there was no way the charms division would meet any of their goals.

_Such is the price of peace, I guess_, he thought to himself. People didn't need layers and layers of protection charms any more, and hence sales for them declined. _We will have to pump more galleons into R&D then. Maybe a new focus on beauty charms? Those _always_ sell well. But coming up with new products can be expensive and what's worse—fruitless. Like that damn Sleekeazy's alternate I wasted family funds on. Maybe a new marketing campaign instead?_ He scribbled down notes as his thoughts raced. He knew better than to come to any decisions before having a more complete picture of what the situation was in the charms industry.

He had just about finished reviewing the reports on the charms division when all of a sudden, the intercom buzzed. He sighed. Somehow no matter how strongly he put it, his secretary didn't understand what he meant when he said he was not to be disturbed. _I should just fire the silly bint_, he thought, annoyed that she had ignored his orders once more. _But then I would have to take time to find someone to replace her. No, better to wait a couple more months. After I get everything settled with Hermione, then I'll be able to take the time to find a secretary with some modicum of common sense. Getting a new one now...things might just go from bad to worse._

"What is it?" he asked, irritation coloring his voice. He saw no reason to hide the fact that he was extremely put out about the situation.

"I'm sorry, sir, but there's someone here to see you," his secretary replied with a quavering voice.

"Does said person happen to have an appointment?" Draco knew the answer to that question before he even asked it. He had purposefully left this afternoon free so he could spend as much time as he needed on his company's reports while still leaving his evening open so he could spend some time with Hermione.

The reply came as expected. "No he doesn't."

"Then I suggest you tell our sudden guest that I am a very busy man, and if he wants to see me, he will have to make an appointment in advance!" Draco said sharply. He hated having to deal with fools.

However, it wasn't his secretary who replied but rather a familiar voice that made a chill run down his spine. "Ah, my apologies young Malfoy. Given how persistent you were in requesting an audience with me…well, perhaps I thought wrong. Maybe you really aren't all that interested in meeting with me anymore."

Draco swore silently. _Of all the times for Hermione's thrice-damned boss to make an appearance! Right when I'm drowning in work and unfortunately, the sort that can't be put off. Well it can't be put aside for very long that is, seeing how I don't have to answer to anyone. And I'm not about to miss this chance, given how bloody frustrating it's been to get in contact with old Merlose._

"Of course I'll be happy to see you straight away," said Draco, changing his tone into one far more welcoming. He stood up from his seat and quickly crossed his office, determined to stop Balthazar Merlose from leaving by force if he had to. Fortunately, that wasn't necessary. Merlose was still standing next to his secretary's desk. It was evident he was smugly pleased with himself, the way only a Slytherin could be.

Draco paused a moment to focus his thoughts before moving forward to greet his unexpected, but much sought after visitor. "Thank you for dropping by," he said cordially. "I do wish you had given me some advance notice though. I would have made certain that everyone knew to let you through, and I wouldn't have kept you waiting at all." With a sweeping bow, Draco gestured towards his office, indicating that the old man was to enter. That was laying it on a bit thick, but considering that Draco wanted something from the old man, he didn't see how it could hurt. He gamely followed Balthazar and entered his office.

The old man cast one quick glance around before moving to take a seat in one of the larger armchairs in Draco's office. "What excellent wards you have," he murmured approvingly. "I trust no one can hear us."

Draco allowed himself a small smirk. "Not unless I want them to," he replied.

"I see. Just like your father in that regard, I suppose." The old wizard flexed his fingers in front of him, cracking his knuckles. "Though not in others, it appears."

"Oh?" Draco raised an eyebrow at his guest even as he sat down in his own plush seat.

"Amazing, isn't it, how much meaning a single syllable can imply? You're curious, young Malfoy, as to what I meant by that, but you're not about to volunteer any information now are you?"

"I could ask the same of you," Draco returned evenly.

The old man's response was to cluck his tongue while wagging his head from side to side. "Youngsters these days. You all have no respect for your elders. When I was young, I would always be the one to volunteer something about my information first." He sighed dramatically, and Draco's fingers twitched irritably. "So be it. Since you obviously haven't been taught any sort of manners, I will go first." Merlose paused and looked at the other wizard expectantly.

"Well?" asked Draco when the silence had went on for too long.

Balthazar only sighed again. "I was hoping that perhaps you would prove me wrong. But never you mind," he said quickly. "I was wondering whether or not you thought about the ramifications of choosing the witch that you have." The old man coughed meaningfully, but Draco didn't like what was implied.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" he asked sharply, his grey eyes boring into the other wizard's skull. He wasn't about to say anything against Hermione. That would only go down badly in society at large, and Draco wasn't naïve enough to believe that the older wizard was his ally in any way.

"It means that your witch might not be…as accepting as you are of those who once fought against her."

"You're not making any sense. If Hermione wasn't as least as accepting as I, then she would have never said yes to me," Draco pointed out. That wasn't exactly the truth—he had blackmailed her, although she had handed him the information he had used against her—but there was no point in telling anyone that. That was something that was best kept between him and his lovely fiancée.

"Surely you must have heard by now that Miss Granger has a grudge against Slytherins," Balthazar said. He leaned forward in his seat and lowered his voice. "I have even heard it said that it is she who is arranging for all these mysterious deaths of young former Slytherin wizards in their prime," he whispered conspiratorially.

Draco leaned back in his seat, wanting to put more distance between himself and Merlose. He did not like what he was hearing. He would have thought that it was above the renowned head of the Department of Mysteries to go about repeating such baseless gossip.

Unless of course, such rumors were simply another way for Balthazar Merlose to rid his department of Hermione. Killing her off was a dramatic gesture, but on the other hand, Balthazar would never have to worry about her again.

Draco grimaced as he considered that possibility before schooling his face into impassivity once more. _Yes, that would make sense,_ thought Draco to himself. _Even if the old man didn't start the rumors himself, he's not doing anything to slow them down. He probably is hoping that something happens to Hermione since he hasn't been able to get rid of her any other way. Let's see if I can convince him that it would be in his best interest to stop spreading such nonsense about._

"I have heard such rumors, but I know they're just that. Wild rumors with not a grain of truth to them. But of course a wise old man yourself would reach the same conclusion without me having to point out the sense in it." He reclined further in his seat and looked at his opponent through half-shut eyes.

"When you get to be as old as I am, you learn not to assume anything, young man," was Merlose's surly reply. "I find it very troubling how Miss Granger has been seen in close proximity to each wizard before his demise."

Draco couldn't help but snort at that accusation. "Is that so? Well, I assure you Hermione would have loved not to seen Flint that night at the theatre. He very much ruined our evening out, he did. And as for Higgs…she wasn't anywhere near him. I was with her in Diagon Alley when he was discovered."

"Ah! But do you know where she was before you two met each other that day? Or do you mean to tell me you spent every waking moment with her?"

Balthazar was beginning to get ridiculous with his silly insinuations, and Draco had to hold himself back from saying that directly. "I mean to tell you that I trust my fiancée implicitly and it would do you well to remember that. If you don't mind me asking, what is it that you have against Hermione anyway?" It was an inelegant way of trying to get the information he was after, but Draco was quickly losing patience with this meeting with Hermione's boss.

"If your mind is so closed, then there is no point in my trying to enlighten you further." The old wizard rose from his seat. He looked down his long nose at Draco and sniffed dismissively, before turning around to make his way out. "But to answer your question, young Malfoy, I dislike Miss Granger so because of the chaos she will bring to the Wizarding World with her schemes against young pure-bloods. You would do well to watch your back when you're with her." He quickly exited the room before Draco could formulate a good response, leaving the younger wizard all alone with his thoughts.

Draco swore violently after the old wizard left. That had been an enlightening visit. Merlose's last statement made it apparent that he was truly scared of Hermione, though for what reason Draco didn't know. But Draco was willing to bet that the old man was getting desperate. Merlose was known for being a man of action, not words. He was rather infamous in that regard, and he had made more than one wizard's life a living hell with well-concealed hexes and jinxes until his target had resigned from the Department of Mysteries. However Draco knew that apparently the old wizard's other attempts to get rid of Hermione had been less then successful.

A wide smile covered his face as he thought about that. That was quite the accomplishment for his witch. Now Merlose was using the tactic of poisoning others' minds against her in the hopes of having something happen to the brilliant young witch. Draco didn't know if Merlose had started the rumors himself or if he was just taking advantage of gossip that had already been circulating throughout the pure-blood community. That didn't really matter though. Either way, Draco would have to put a stop to it.

He rose from his seat. There was no use for it. He was too distracted now to go back to reading reports. He pushed them aside and silently promised himself that he would try to read them later. For now, he would do his best to counteract the lies Merlose had been spreading. There were still many who would accept his word that Hermione was no threat to them. His family had that much influence remaining. And even more people would be inclined to believe him if his father backed him up in this. Draco thought that it was rather likely that he could convince the elder Malfoy to do so. His father was nothing if not pragmatic.

That was rather a brilliant plan, and he silently congratulated himself for thinking of it so quickly. Eventually Merlose would have to come back to him if the old wizard wished to continue his campaign against Hermione. And then Draco could force out of him the reason that he was so dead set against her.

Happy with the solution he had reached, he decided to leave. If he hurried, he would be back at Malfoy Manor in time to take lunch with his parents. Sooner would be better in asking his father for his help. After that, he thought that it would be good for him to return to work and to continue working on those reports. That would leave him plenty of time to see Hermione this evening to continue making her fall in love with him.

* * *

Hermione wasn't certain why she had agreed to meet Draco at Malfoy Manor for the evening. Their usual modus operandi was for him to pick her up at his flat. However the last time they had met, he had mentioned how bogged down he was at work with updated earnings reports for each of his company's divisions. Somewhere in the middle of that discussion, she had wound up agreeing to meet him at his home so that he would have that much more time for work.

On the bright side though, she had finally been given permission to Apparate directly to the manor. She had been truly surprised when Draco had mentioned that fact to her the last time she saw him last. He had told her that almost as an aside, but the large grin on his face told her that it had taken some finagling on his part to convince his mother to allow her that right. He didn't see fit to let her in on how he had convinced his parents, only saying that it was an early birthday present to her from both his mother and father. She had been too grateful to press him for more details.

She sighed heavily. That was part of the whole problem. She _should_ have pressed him for those details so she could suss out just how much leverage he had over his parents and of what sort. She had been loathe to do so, however, and so she had managed to convince herself that she didn't want to pry too deeply for fear of Draco changing his mind about allowing her Apparation rights to his home.

But that was the wrong attitude. She should have taken her chances and if Draco seemed inclined to reverse course, she should have influenced him not to. He simply wouldn't be as much use to her if she wasn't able to control him. It was long past the time for her to start exerting such control. Yet she simply couldn't bring herself to do so. She couldn't make herself be that cold and calculating. Somehow the Slytherin snake had got under her skin.

There was no point in berating herself any failure for such failures. That was in the past, and there was nothing she could do to change that. She sighed again. What would make sense would be for her to resolve to do better and stick to it. However, if she was being completely honest with herself, she didn't think it was all that likely that she would be able to do so. As much as she hated to admit it, her heart had got a little too involved with Draco Malfoy for her liking and now she had to face the consequences.

Those consequences could be contained by two things. One, she could keep it as best as she could to herself just how much he was able to affect her. If he didn't know the extent of her affection for him, he couldn't use it against her and more importantly, her plans for the Wizarding World. The other thing she could do was to return the favor and make him fall in love with her.

She couldn't see any downside to that last bit. Best of all, her heart and mind was united in making that thought a reality. So it was she had taken especial care this evening to look her best. Usually she preferred to dress in her House colors; she looked good in red and gold. However, she looked just as good in light pink and that had the added advantage of making her appear softer and more welcoming. She wore her hair up in a French knot, with a single curl left loose so it could drape over left cheek. Her make-up was impeccable and emphasized her fine eyes, which she had always believed to be her best feature.

All in all, she knew that she looked absolutely lovely.

_Draco won't know what hit him_, she thought with a note of triumph. _Especially since he probably still conceives of me as a homely bookworm. Well, I'm no great beauty but little does he know that any witch can be breathtaking when she puts her mind to it._ Satisfied with her handiwork, she retrieved her wand from her dresser. She fixed her destination clearly in her mind and then Apparated to Malfoy Manor.

She arrived in the library of the manor, which was one of the rooms that she was better acquainted with. She smiled briefly as she remembered how she and Draco had suggested the library as an ideal arrival spot for her at the same time. Draco had mentioned that she would be able to look more closely at the Malfoy's collection in case he was running late, and that was pretty much the reason why she had suggested it as well.

However, she didn't have any time to peruse the collection for Draco was there waiting for her. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw him, reclining against a bookcase, and she silently scolded it to behave, though that didn't any good at all. Her breathing hitched slightly when she noticed how his eyes appraised her as she walked up to him. Lifting a hand to her hair to double check that it was in place, she wondered what he thought about her appearance. Judging from the way they softened up, he appeared to be rather taken with her. Which was good, very good, as that was the response she had wanted all along from him.

He quickly recovered from whatever surprise he had at her appearance to step forward and sketched a gallant bow towards her. "Disappointed to see me so soon?" he asked, throwing a roguish wink at her.

"Quite," she replied.

He sighed dramatically and shook his head. "Of course I knew it, but did you have to go and confirm that you think more of my family library than me?"

She arched up an eyebrow at him. "But Draco dear," she practically purred at him, "such a flagrant lie like that would only be an insult to someone of your intelligence."

Surprisingly, a blush appeared on his cheeks. It disappeared so rapidly that she almost questioned whether it was there in the first place, but the way he gulped confirmed it. He was affected by her flirtations. _Good,_ she thought almost vehemently. _At least I know I'm not the only one getting flustered when we flirt._

It would have been too easy to continue in this vein for Hermione, but she knew that they had an appointment to keep. So she decided to switch topics. "How will we be traveling this evening?" she asked. He offered her his arm, which she took gracefully, and the two of them began to stroll away from the library. She wrinkled her nose. "Please don't tell me we're going to floo over there," she added. She despised that method of traveling. Apparition was much more convenient—not to mention cleaner too.

He looked puzzled at her comment. "We'll Apparate of course. Not unless you prefer to use the portkey that Theo sent over."

Now it was her turn to be confused. "What portkey?"

Draco's brow furrowed with concern. "Theo wrote to me saying that I could just Apparate over, seeing how I've been to his place many times and the wards recognize me. He also said that you could side-along with me or use the portkey that he sent you in an owl about tonight."

"I never received anything from him," said Hermione. Her stomach twisted uncomfortably. She didn't like what she was hearing. "Although I haven't really been keeping up with my mail the last couple of days," she added slowly. She wracked her brain, trying to recall whether or not she had seen any owls from the Notts.

Her companion looked just as concerned as she was. "Maybe you could check when you get home later tonight?" he asked hesitantly. "I know that Theo would want to know if his portkey got lost somehow."

"Of course," she agreed readily. She would have done so regardless. She hoped that she had just missed the owl somehow. She didn't like the implication of someone intercepting her owls.

"Thank you," said Draco. He offered her a smile, though she could tell that he was still worried about that portkey being lost. "On the bright side, that makes it much easier for us to decide how to get there. Now you will just have to trust me and my Apparition skills."

She nodded her head, knowing that there was no other option. That was really too bad, as she would have loved to have had the chance to choose to trust Draco's Apparition skills, which she was certain were excellent, as opposed to a portkey. That would have had a significant effect on him as well. She returned his smile and said, "That's what I would have wanted anyway."

"That's good to know," he returned, and she had to refrain from sighing, disappointed that her statement hadn't affected his demeanor in the slightest. He took a step closer towards her and then wrapped an arm about her waist. "All right then. I'll just Apparate us over then," he said as he took out his wand. In a blink of an eye, before she could respond to his words in any way, they disappeared into the ether. A second later, they were standing in the middle of the entrance hall to the Notts' house.

Luck failed her once more as immediately, their hostess came bounding up to greet them, leaving her husband to trail after her and leaving Hermione with no chance to compliment Draco. _It's as though the whole world is plotting against me tonight,_ she noted silently, a hint of melancholy infusing her thoughts. But she soon shook herself out of that mood so she could focus on what Nadia was saying.

"It's ever so good to see you again," the young witch said as she skidded to a stop only a few feet away. "It seems like it's been ages since we last spoke."

Hermione smiled, her instincts taking over as she took charge of the conversation. She was through with being flustered by her fiancé and the situation in general. "Yes, it has been," she agreed. "The last time I saw you was at your wedding, and I am not entirely certain that it should count."

Nadia shuddered. "It definitely does not count," she stated forcefully. "Frankly I have a hard time remembering any of the details of that day. It all seems to be one giant blur right now. If I had known it was going to be that way, I wouldn't have worried so much about every last detail."

"Be that as it may, darling, let me assure you that if anything had gone wrong, you would have never been able to forget about it," came Theo's voice as he reached where they were all standing. "Draco will back me up on this one."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "What is it worth to you?" he asked with only the smallest hint of a smirk.

"Still Slytherin to the core, I see." Theo clucked his tongue and shook his head as though disappointed in his old friend.

"Honestly!" Nadia swatted her husband with her hand. "You're just as bad as he is, I am certain, if not worse."

"Oh, I am definitely worse than him," Theo agreed amiably. "As I always take care not to be too obvious."

"Or at least that's what you always say," Draco quipped. "Sounds good but it's really too bad that you've never managed the knack of putting that into practice."

Hermione knew that if she let them, the two wizards could have continued on in the same fashion for ages. She cast a glance over at Nadia and found that the other witch was in agreement with her. It was time to bring the wizards into line. And Hermione knew the perfect way to do so as well. She cleared her throat to attract their attention. "I hate to be the one to turn the conversation towards more serious subjects," she said softly, "but I'm afraid that I have some bad news to relay to you."

The Notts exchanged glances with one another, as though debating who should reply to her. It was Nadia who finally did. "What sort of bad news?" she asked hesitantly. "It sounds rather ominous, the way you put it."

Hermione took a breath to steady herself before plunging in. "Draco told me that you were going to send me an invitation by owl that included a portkey," she said, facing Theo.

His forehead wrinkled up in confusion. "Draco told you that? Does that mean?"

"I never received it," she told him solemnly. "I take it that you did send it out."

"Yes, yes, of course. The same day that I spoke to Draco about it, if my memory serves me right."

"I see." She was willing to bet that would have been around the time she had been attacked again, if not the very same day. Because the Aurors had kept her waiting for so long, she hadn't got around to looking at her mail until a day later, which would have been plenty of time for someone to intercept Theo's message. "And it had an active portkey in it?" she asked, wanting to confirm he worst suspicions.

"Unfortunately yes." Theo looked over at his wife who had grown pale. He stepped closer to Nadia and squeezed her hand. "There was no reason not to send an active one. The letter said you were welcome to visit any time."

"Theo's being kind. That foolish idea was all my own." Nadia wrung her hands. "I just thought…well, I wouldn't have minded at all if you wanted to drop in sooner and I…"

"Of course," said Hermione. She tilted her head to one side and smiled gently at the other witch. "I understand. In case I wanted to catch up before tonight…you wanted to give me that opportunity. I probably would have done the same."

"Well there's nothing we can do about that for now," Theo said sensibly. "If you'll excuse me, I must see about getting that portkey deactivated. I hope you don't mind waiting." Both Hermione and Draco shook their heads no. It was only prudent for Theo to take care of the situation as soon as possible. "Thank you. Nadia, would you please show our guests to your sitting room? I will join you as soon as I am able to."

With that, their host sped away to perform his task. Hermione glanced at the younger witch. It was clear from how little color she had that Nadia was still blaming herself. _No, it might be more than that. Maybe she's worried that something else will happen tonight. After all, the last time the four of us met for an evening's entertainment, it didn't end all that well._ She stepped forward to grasp the younger witch's hands. "It will be all right," she said softly. "That's why I've brought it up right away. I am certain that it won't take very long for Theo to deactivate that portkey." Hermione launched a glare in Draco's direction, silently urging him to back her up.

"She's right," said Draco. "The portkey doesn't actually have to be deactivated as such," he went on and explained. "Which is good because that would take a lot more time and energy. Instead all Theo has to do is to reconfigure the wards so they won't recognize that particular portkey anymore. If anyone is foolish enough to use after he does that…." Draco shrugged eloquently.

"Then they'll be in for a nasty surprise, I take it," Hermione stated.

"That's certainly one way to put it," he agreed. She turned her head to one side and winked broadly at him, truly grateful for his assistance in trying to soothe Nadia's fear. He inclined his head toward her, accepting her gratitude. Hermione turned her attention back to Nadia, who apparently hadn't noticed the small exchange between the other two.

"So you see? Everything will work out just fine." Hermione could see that the younger witch would still need some reassuring. In fact, she was willing to bet that Nadia wouldn't feel safe until Theo returned with the news that the portkey had been disabled. Well she could certainly understand that. She gently took Nadia's hand and nudged the younger witch into leading them to the room that Theo spoke of. Once they were there, she started up a conversation, asking Nadia what places she had visited on her honeymoon. The younger witch answered listlessly, and Hermione had to rely upon Draco to help her carry the conversation. They soon fell into a pattern. Nadia would mention some city or monument she had seen during her honeymoon. Then either Hermione and Draco would exclaim how they had visited that place before and wax on about it. It made for rather dull conversation. Yet as they went along, some color returned to Nadia's cheeks, which told Hermione that their efforts were not in vain. Hermione soon didn't have to force her smile as she was genuinely happy at how well she and Draco worked together.

And she didn't have to act at all as though she was enjoying herself when Draco started to regale the two witches with tales of how mischievous he was as a young boy. His stories were truly amusing, albeit a bit frightening. _I never thought that I would feel sorry for his mother, but after hearing how naughty he was I almost do. Honestly! Deciding to hide in a dragon reserve just because your mum wouldn't buy you the Welsh Green toy you wanted! But then again, I suppose that was a function of how spoilt he was. I'll have to make certain that our children will be more sensible than that._ She blushed then. She couldn't believe how easy it had become for her to imagine having children with her fiancé.

Unfortunately for her, said fiancé noticed her blush and immediately proceeded to tease her about it. "What's wrong? Scared that something dreadful might have happened to the poor lad that I was?" He waggled his eyebrows at her in what was a disgustingly charming manner. "Don't worry, love. I'm here. That should be enough for you to infer that this story ends well."

She coughed violently, trying to buy time for her to think of a good response. "It's not that," was what she wound up saying. She mentally winced. That sounded bad even to her own ears.

"Is that so?" He tilted his head and practically leered in her direction. "Well then, maybe you'll be kind enough to inform me just what thought made you turn that particular shade of red." He then winked at her, and she restrained herself from snorting. He truly had no shame.

She hated to admit it, but that was part of his attraction. A big part of it, in fact. If he was more reserved, then she could have held a part of herself back. However, Draco Malfoy was nothing if not passionate, and he didn't give a damn about who was watching. He was an incorrigible flirt, which was something that she wasn't used to dealing with.

_And that probably has a lot to do with my downfall_, she thought to herself. _The wizards I'm used to are more reserved. Ron was the only one who was very open with his emotions. Though I was able to use that to influence him since I knew him so well. _She repressed the urge to sigh. _I might have rushed things a bit. Maybe more observation of Draco and what makes him tick might have been a good idea. Then I would have known how to deal with him better before I had to be around him all the time. But I thought I could handle him and I guess pride does goeth before a fall._

Fortunately for her, their host entered the room just then before her thoughts could continue along such a depressing track. Theo cocked an eyebrow up at the scene before him. "Well, it's nice to know I wasn't missed," he said accusingly. His words were belied by the smirk he threw at all of them.

"Why would any lady miss you when she can enjoy my company?" Draco retorted.

"Oh dear. I see you still have the biggest ego in all of the Wizarding World." Theo sighed dramatically and turned towards Hermione. "I wish you all the luck in the world in reining him in," he said.

"Thank you," she said, "but I don't intend to count on luck." A wicked grin covered her face.

"That's very good to hear. Because quite frankly luck wouldn't do you much good. A cunning plan on the other hand…well, the less said the better. I am positive you don't want to give too much away. You know better than that, which is more than I can say for other people in this room." He glanced over at Draco, making it clear who it was he was talking about. "Do feel free to owl me if you ever need any help. I'm always willing to lend a hand for any plots involving taking Malfoy's ego here down a notch."

"Remind me again why I'm friends with you?" put in Draco. He grimaced. "On second thought, never mind. That's just inviting you to insult me some more."

"Nice to see that you're finally learning."

For the second time that evening, Hermione found herself exchanging a glance with Nadia and confirming that the other witch thought that it was time for them to bring an end to the wizards' playful banter. This time, however, she let Nadia take the lead.

The former Ravenclaw sighed dramatically as she turned away from her husband so that she faced Hermione. "Oh dear. And here I thought that dinner was mentioned somewhere in the invitation Theo sent you," she said in a loud stage whisper. Immediately, Draco and Theo paused in their exchange to focus on the witches.

"That was my impression as well," Hermione replied mildly.

"Well, since the men obviously have other intentions, shall you and I go on ahead of them? They can follow whenever they're done playing with each other." Nadia tossed her head dismissively in the wizards' direction.

"That sounds like an excellent idea. Lead the way." Hermione smiled as she stepped towards Nadia and linked arms with her. Together they left the room before they could be stopped, leaving the wizards to trail after them.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Thanks so much for reading. I would love it if you would leave a review.

My apologies for this update being so late. July has been an incredibly busy month for me, and my writing schedule is in ruins. I usually write at least a little each day and there are usually a couple of days each week when I write a lot. That really hasn't happened at all this much, but here's hoping August will be better. crosses fingers In any case, I will try to update once more this month, but I can't promise that. Hopefully once August rolls around, updates will become more regular.

Finally thanks so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter: inadaze22, Dame Brittany, WinterhartZahneelCalina, Chanteur d'ombre, celticscorpion, wickedwench1, hermioneism, avonstar, twin-v, Laredman, TheDreamerLady, dynonugget, oneamsoundstage, mlui, misssweetsweet, l0llip0ps, x3myheartbeat, shat, dracosnumber1girl, and Snowe. It's so reassuring to know that people are still reading this fic even though I've not been able to update regularly.


	25. Love Grows

**Ambition's End: Love Grows**

**Disclaimer:** None of these characters are mine as they all belong to JKR.

* * *

Although Hermione was exhausted by the time she returned that evening, she still had one final task on her list. She purposefully made her way to her desk and opened the drawer where she stashed all her mail. She was determined to see whether or not she had ever received the portkey from Theo before she went to bed.

She hadn't.

She pulled out her chair and settled on it, then rested her head against her arms. She closed her eyes and tried to focus her thoughts, despite how tired she was. _Great. So I did never get Theo's invitation,_ she mused. _And of course, that was on the same night that I had been attacked. I don't think that's coincidence._

Suddenly a chill ran down her spine as a more frightening possibility occurred to her.

_Or maybe...maybe my owls have been monitored even before then. The fact that the night the owl was sent was the same as when Montague attacked me and Harry..._could_ be just coincidence. Maybe there were other letters that were taken before. Or maybe this was the first time, and it was only taken because of the portkey to the Notts' place._ She frowned as her mind kept coming up with scenario after scenario.

_All I _know _is that someone's been intercepting my owls. And owl mail is ridiculously safe so it's a good bet that whoever took my letters is from the Ministry— it has to be the Aurors. I can see Givens getting permission for that by arguing that it's necessary for my safety or some rubbish like that. Although I shouldn't discount the possibility that it's my boss._

"Enough," she said aloud, raising her head and straightening her shoulders. She got out of her seat and started to pace around. She exhaled deeply. All this thinking was getting her no where. _I can't figure out anything tonight. It's too late for that. So I'd best just get to bed and start looking in this tomorrow morning. Or rather, later this morning. And for now just not use the owl post for anything important, just for everyday things._

A smirk appeared on her lips as a wickedly clever idea occurred to her. _Well, unless of course, it's something that I want whoever's spying on me to find out._

* * *

Hermione took one last glance at the mirror across from her, wanting to make certain that she looked her best. Her action didn't go unnoticed by her companion.

"You look absolutely lovely, darling," Draco drawled, his lips curling into a lazy smile as he regarded her. "You shouldn't need me to tell you that."

She turned back to him and cocked up an eyebrow. She was pleased that he was so willing to flirt with her. That had to be a good sign, and in any event, she was going to encourage such behavior. _Not that he needs any encouragement_, she thought privately. Still she pasted a smile on her face as she said, "Are you trying to imply something?"

"I assure you I wasn't trying to imply anything at all. I was simply stating that I know that you know how well you look."

She made a moue and scrunched up her nose. "When you put it that way, you make it sound as though I'm vain."

"Never that," he replied. "Fishing for a compliment, definitely, but not that. Though what I should have done was to ignore you, I suppose. Rewarding such behavior will only encourage it."

"And not saying anything might make me look for someone who will," she returned, a wicked grin on her lips.

That was the wrong thing to say, and she knew it as soon as the words left her mouth. His expression turned dark. He leaned in closer towards her. "I know you did not mean that," he said, his tone full of menace, "and so I'll let it pass. However, let me warn you, that I am not such a wizard to tolerate such behavior from my witch."

Hermione found herself gulping involuntarily, despite all her earlier confidence that she could control the man before her. Clearly this was one of his trigger points, although she really couldn't blame him for it. She would never suffer being made a fool because of infidelity on the part of her wizard. No, in fact, she didn't even want him to ignore her in favor of other witches even. They were very much alike in that.

Her long silence didn't sit too well with him, however, and he took hold of her arm. Ire backlit his silver eyes, and a small part of her mind couldn't help but admire how gorgeous he looked. "Silence, my dear, is not an acceptable answer. I want it perfectly clear between the two of us that you are not to flit about with other wizards."

She wasn't about to let herself get pushed around. So she lifted her chin and met his glare head on. "I will only promise you that if you extend the same courtesy to me. I will not tolerate being the target of pitying glances and hushed gossip due to you carrying on with some tart."

A smile graced his face then, and the tension between them was broken just like that. His eyes were still lit from the strength of his anger, but it was fading fast. She could tell that he was amused by the similarities between them, much like she was. "I think that's an agreement I can enter into with no qualms," he said. His characteristic smirk made an appearance on his face. "And if you're now done with admiring yourself, shall we go?" He gallantly offered her his arm.

"For that, I should tell you no and make you wait even more." She rolled her eyes, but took the arm he held out. Inwardly she was slightly amazed at the two of them had defused the situation so quickly. Back when they were at Hogwarts that never would have happened. _Hmm...maybe both of us have grown up since then,_ she thought. _Well, I know that for certain for myself...but the more time I spend with Draco, the more I can see that he's not the boy he used to be. _She sighed at that thought. _That's probably where I went wrong. I kept thinking of him as a boy instead of a man. If it comes down to it...if I have to chose between him and what I believe in...I know what my choice will be. It'll just hurt more...my own fault for letting myself fall so deep._

Her melancholy didn't escape his notice as they walked down the hallway to the ballroom where everyone was waiting for them to arrive. "Why the sigh?" he asked, looking down at her, concern now welling up in his silver orbs.

She shook her head, trying to focus her thoughts._ Eyes, not orbs. Merlin, Hermione, you're not a silly girl in some romance novel._ She couldn't help but cough as her recalcitrant mindtook off running with that suggestion. There was something incredibly romantic with the notion of the two of them. That was partly the reason why they had been able to fool everyone about being in love. _And the other part is that we can't help falling for each other. Or at least, I hope so. And gah! I need to stop thinking in clichés!_

"I didn't think that was such a hard question to answer." The sound of Draco's voice roused her from her reverie.

"Hmm?" she asked distractedly. She couldn't remember what he had asked her, so lost she had become in her own thoughts.

"And here I thought I would never see the day that someone could pose a question to you that you're not able to answer," he said. She rolled her eyes at his cheek and poked him in his side.

"Stop that. It's not fair to ask me anything when it's clear that I'm busy thinking about something."

"Hermione, you're always thinking about something. If I went by that standard, I would never be able to talk to you about anything. I would simply wait by your side in the hopes that eventually you would take pity on your poor fiancé and strike up a conversation to save him from dying of boredom."

She raised an eyebrow at that. "Honestly. I know perfectly well that you're able to keep yourself amused. You're the very definition of a social butterfly." He winced at her description, causing her to smirk. "What? You wouldn't describe yourself that way?"

"Yes, and you know it." They continued along in the same vein as they walked, his former question long forgotten. Hermione found that she was growing more relaxed by the moment in his company, not blinking an eye even when he let go of her hand to wrap an arm about her waist and draw her closer to him. In fact she didn't notice how intimate a position they were in until they entered the ballroom.

She blinked her eyes rapidly as they entered the room, more or less blinded by all the lights. She was used to Malfoy Manor being a rather dour place. She had chalked that up to the personality of its inhabitants and their magical inclinations. It was rather ironic, in a sense, that the Manor could be so brightly lit up at nighttime when during the day, it tended to be dark inside.

Leaving that aside, Hermione was grateful that the lighting was done by magical means and did not heat the room the way Muggle lights did. From the soft breeze that slipped across her skin, she could determine that there were several layers of cooling charms placed on the ballroom. The room was filled with all sorts of flowers, and the roof was charmed to look like the midday sky. It was very easy to believe that the party was being held outside in the gardens rather than inside. There was even a large, marble fountain in the middle of the room. The soft trickle of its water permeated the room despite the din of conversation.

Hermione twitched her lips as she silently appraised just how full the room was. "I thought you said that the party started at eight," she noted to Draco.

"I don't believe I ever said that," was his reply.

"Oh?" She twisted her head around so that she could glare at him. It was rather awkward, but she didn't wish to move away from his embrace just yet. "I distinctly remember you saying that we didn't have to be here till eight. And I assure you that my memory is usually correct."

"And it is again, darling." He bent forward to drop a light kiss on her lips while his hand gently massaged the small of her back. It was so tempting to close her eyes and let him deepen the kiss, but she wasn't about to do so in public. She continued to glower at him—or rather, she attempted to maintain her glare, but she doubted she was all that successful.

He smiled at her, and she could feel her resolve weaken again. He said nonchalantly, "I did say that we didn't have to be here at eight. I never said the party started at eight. Those two things are different."

"I guess I should have known better and parsed your words more carefully." She rolled her eyes, but she really wasn't irritated with him. She was irritated with herself, because she had known that she was dealing with a Slytherin. She should have known that Draco Malfoy was very much accomplished when it came to misleading a person without actually lying. _And I should have questioned him further,_ she berated herself. _I've fooled people with the truth often enough myself. It...well, it's bloody frustrating that I could let myself be misled this way. But enough of this. Let's pay attention—close attention—to what he's saying now! So as not to make the same mistake again._

For Draco was continuing with his explanation. "I had known that you would want to be here first thing. But there's no real point to us showing up that early." He shrugged his shoulders eloquently. "We're not hosting the party. That's my parents' duty, and I am certain that they were here to greet everyone. Rather, we're sort of like the guests of honor. Which means we can be late. In fact, I suspect that everyone sort of expected us to be the last to arrive."

"I see," she replied vaguely. She briefly wondered if this was another insidious way for Narcissa to make it obvious that she wasn't really part of the Malfoy family. She quickly decided that she didn't care what that old hag thought. It didn't really matter what Narcissa's motives were, even if she was trying to subtly insult Hermione. It was only a matter of weeks before the wedding would take place, and that would function as her official welcome to the family.

All of a sudden, it got too hot in the room for Hermione, as her traitorous mind suggested what that welcome would also consist of. _No, no, no_, she told herself. _I am not going to think about _that. But she found it hard to change the direction of her thoughts, especially not when Draco was still standing so close to her. It felt right, for all the wrong reasons, to be cradled against his side as they traversed the room.

A shiver ran down her back as Draco bent down to whisper in her ear, his warm breath tickling her as he spoke. "Are you all right?" he asked, his voice filled with concern. "You look a bit flushed."

That only made her blush harder. _Of course he would notice it_, she thought with exasperation. _I wouldn't be surprised if he knows very well what sort of an effect he's having on me right now._

She stifled a gasp and very nearly froze in place as she considered that possibility. _Yes, that would be like him. I could see how he would want to buttress his hold over me like that. Although that wasn't much at all to begin with...yes, well it would be foolish to pretend that he has no influence over me. But still. Not nearly as much as he might think. After all he still doesn't know how it was I who arranged our marriage in the first place._

Feeling satisfied with herself, she proceeded to answer his question. "I'm fine," she said, moving so she wasn't quite so close to him. That small change in position made it easier for her to focus. "Just a little excited…and maybe a little nervous. I'm not used to being the center of attention."

Draco chortled at that. "Is that why you suffered being friends with Potter? Because he would take any and all attention away from you?"

She bristled slightly at his remark, not liking how he so easily disparaged her friend. Yes, Harry was an incredibly useful friend to have and yes, she did suffer sometimes to keep him as a friend—particularly in their fourth year when there were all those rumors about them being together—but she also genuinely liked him.

"I never _suffered_ being friends with him," she said crossly. She tried to pull away from Draco but found that he was holding on to her too firmly.

"Fine, fine. I apologize. No need to get snippy with me." It was hard for her to stay upset with him when he was grinning at her like that. "But you must admit that your friend does have a habit for seeking out attention."

"Harry doesn't seek attention. It finds him."

"I imagine he probably says the same thing about trouble."

Hermione snorted at Draco's remark. That was, in fact, something that Harry often said to her, particularly whenever she told him not to go looking for any trouble. "He may have said that once or twice," she admitted.

Draco snorted. "Somehow that does not surprise me." He cocked his head to the side. "No, it doesn't. The only thing that does surprise me is the fact that you admitted to it."

"I'm not blind," Hermione said. She shrugged her shoulders eloquently. "And you are spot on. It was—and remains to be—very convenient to have a friend who draws the spotlight away from me." She offered him a small smile. "It has its advantages."

"Indeed." He didn't elaborate further, but Hermione was certain that he could come up with several of those advantages all on his own. He was a Slytherin after all.

* * *

The evening was going well. Draco grinned as he slowly stroked Hermione's back, only listening with half an ear to her conversation with Nadia and some other Ravenclaws. He loved how she seemed to relish his caresses. It was positively enchanting the way she seemed to lean into them. He much preferred it to any attempts by her to avoid them.

That was the best thing so far about the night—how well they were getting along. There had just been that one brief moment when she had threatened to abandon him to seek out the company of other wizards. He had known perfectly well that she had meant it jokingly; he rather doubted that Granger was the type of witch to cheat and what's more she wouldn't do so because it was simply too great a risk to her sterling reputation. But there was never any harm in making it perfectly clear that he would not tolerate such behavior from her.

And of course, it was simply delicious to watch her make the same demand of him. He expected no less of her. Neither of them were the type to suffer infidelity lightly; he had no doubt in his mind that her vengeance would be terrible if he was ever foolish enough to betray her for another woman. Fortunately for the both of them, he wasn't a fool. Though he supposed that was rather unfortunate for Hermione as well. She would have been better able to control him if he was as dull as her friends. Little did she know that he had already sussed out her plans to rule the Wizarding World from behind the scenes.

A burst of laughter disrupted him from his train of thoughts. Draco abruptly looked at the gaggle of witches beside Hermione, each of them chortling. For some reason, Hermione was blushing profusely.

"What is it?" he asked, feeling a little left out. "I'm sorry. I must not have been paying attention."

That only made Nadia and her friends laugh even more, and Hermione wrinkled her nose, as if put upon. She sighed heavily before speaking. "I was saying that I do believe your mother has been trying to get your attention for quite some time," she told him, her tone much aggrieved.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I was a bit distracted." For some reason, that served to further encourage the witches' laughter. He even saw Nadia nudge Hermione with her elbow and wink. He couldn't help but wonder what that meant.

Her cheeks flaming red, Hermione drew herself up to her full height and looked him straight in the eye, ignoring the other witches. "Well you had best get going, I expect," she said.

"Where?"

She let out an exasperated moan. "To see what your mother wants, my dear." She examined him with a critical eye. "Are you coming down with something? You don't seem to be too sharp right now."

"It doesn't take much imagination to figure out just who keeps distracting him," Nadia put in. She winked slyly at Hermione. Amazingly the tips of the Gryffindor witch's ears were now turning red.

"Something tells me the problem is rather that your imagination is overactive," Hermione replied shortly. She turned her attention back to Draco. "Go on. See your mother. I don't want to be accused of monopolizing your time." She all but pushed Draco towards his mother without bothering to explain to him just what was going on. He was rather peeved about that. She had to know that he was confused about the situation. But then again, he supposed she didn't want to embarrass him in public. A smile tugged at his lips as he watched her out of the corner of his eyes, spinning around to confront Nadia and the rest about something. He couldn't very well remain upset with her when clearly she was acting in what she thought was his best interest.

With that settled, he was able to regain his composure. He began walking through the throng of people towards his mother, coolly nodding in greeting at several of the other wizards he knew. Draco was in his element. The crowd parted before him as he strode along, his head held high, satisfied with how everyone was quick to get out of his way.

"Hello Mother," he said, greeting her with a flourish. A slight chill brushed against his skin as a privacy ward settled in place over them. "You wanted to see me?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Do feel free to thank me whenever you like, darling."

Draco held in a groan. Did the women in his life decide to make it a game confuse him tonight? If that was true, then they all were doing a bang up job. Confused didn't even begin to describe how discombobulated he felt. "I would," he told his mother, "but I must confess I'm wondering what you want me to thank you for."

She gave him a steely look. "Dearest, you don't have to pretend with me." She made a vague gesture with her hands. "Trust me, I've made certain that no one can overhear anything you say."

This time he didn't bother to restrain himself from groaning at his mother's remark—and somewhat loudly at that. "I know that," he said through gritted teeth. "I'm not some child, who can't even realize when a privacy ward has been set."

His mother tilted her head to the side and looked at him with an expression of puzzlement writ large upon her face. "Yes that is what I had thought. But if that's so, then why are you still carrying on with this farce?"

"What farce?"

She shook her head sadly. "I see you're still laboring under the presumption that I don't know very well at all. Draco, I know perfectly well that you don't like that…Muggle you've settled on for a wife. Maybe no one else can see it, but I certainly can. I do know you best after all."

Draco fought the urge to laugh. His mother's last statement was a terribly ironic thing. She was wrong about him, and she didn't even know it.

There was a time, after all, when she was the person who knew him best. However, he was no longer that scared little boy who depended upon the schemes of his mother to keep him sane as he tended to the impossible task set before him. He wasn't about to let anyone, especially not his parents, control how he would live his life. And he certainly wasn't the same boy who would turn his biting wit to mock all the Mudbloods and blood traitors in sight. Draco could now admit—privately to himself—that he found Hermione attractive. Her intelligence was stunning, and he could definitely appreciate how she looked when she spent some time on her appearance like she did tonight. He glanced over in her direction, admiring how the cut of her robes set off her figure and emphasized her curves.

His mother coughed loudly, interrupting his train of thought. "Draco," she said impatiently, "I thought I made it clear you didn't have to do that around me."

"Do what?" he asked.

"Keep staring at that Muggle as though you're actually in love with her." His mother laughed throatily as she raised a champagne flute to her lips. "It's an awfully good act, darling. I am positive that half the room thinks that you're so in love with her that you can't bear to take your eyes off of her."

He rolled his eyes. "Hermione's not a Muggle," he reminded her. "You had best remember that she's a witch, just like you. If anyone heard you talking like that…"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Forgot the privacy wards already?"

Draco shook his head in response. He knew that his mother wasn't likely to go repeating what she had said to him in public. Still it irked him the way that she referred to Hermione as just a Muggle. Hermione was a brilliant witch, and he admired the plans his witch had concocted to control the Wizarding World. It was much better thought out that any plot either of his parents had ever come up with. But Draco knew it would be futile to get his mother to admit that and so he let the subject drop, choosing to address his mother's other accusation.

"And I'm not in love with her," said Draco. "I can appreciate what she brings to our marriage, that much is certain. But love?" Here he rolled his eyes. "Please. I'm not the sort of fool to be bothered with that."

"I should hope so," his mother replied quietly.

"Not know so?"

She wrinkled her brow, her lips pursing together into a pout. Then she sighed. "Yes, it should be that, shouldn't it?" She waved a hand in his direction. "But your act has been so complete, that for a second you even had me fooled. I did tell you, after all, that you didn't have to bother with continuing while you were here with me."

He shrugged his shoulders. "You can never be absolutely certain of who might be observing you," he offered as an explanation. Inwardly he was at odds with his mother's statement. It was no act, the pleasure he took in Hermione's company. Just being with her was a potent reminder of everything that was to come in his future. No Slytherin could fail to appreciate the sort of power and influence that would be in his reach after his marriage. However there was simply not the slightest chance in the world that he was actually falling in love with the witch.

_Maybe Mother is having a hard time telling that because of everything I'm doing to win Hermione over_, he thought to himself. _I could see how that could be. She sees me doting over Hermione and worries that it's love. But the reality is, I dote upon my witch because I know that's the sort of approach that will be the hardest for her to resist._ A smile crossed his lips. _In fact, she hasn't been able to resist it so far._

His mother looked at him askance. "You do seem please with yourself. Is everything going to plan?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "What makes you think—"

"That you have a plan?" she finished for him. "You always do. If you didn't, you would hardly be my son. Or your father's for that matter."

He nodded his head, not able to argue with his mother's words. It was true. Both of his parents were shrewd and cunning, and so it was only natural that he learned to be the same. The thought flashed through his mind that those traits would most likely pass on to his children. "My plan," he said, "is going as well as any plan in its current stage of development."

She smiled at him. "I see. Do remember, Draco, that plans work out best when you're flexible enough to modify them to fit the situation before you. It is very rare for the situation to modify itself to suit your plan."

"Yes Mother." He didn't remark on how Hermione seemed remarkably apt at getting everything to fall in to place for her. His gaze drifted over once again to his lovely fiancée as he thought of her. He supposed that this was where her vast intelligence came into play. Because she was so clever, Hermione could keep track of more variables than most and therefore, she could determine in advance how to arrange things in her favor. She couldn't think of everything—witness the way she never thought that he would find out about her ambitions—but her plots were very well devised, better than any of his parents' that much was certain. Draco knew that once he convinced her to let him in on them that those plans would only become even stronger, for he would be able point out the flaws that she herself had missed.

"And then there are some things that cannot be changed, no matter how much we might wish for them to," his mother said softly. Draco looked at her askance, wondering what she could possibly be referring to. She didn't meet his eyes, however, and took another long sip from her glass. He frowned as he realized that there was something very sad about her demeanor.

"Are you feeling all right, Mother?" he asked.

"Quite." His mother set her glass down. "I am just…coming to terms, you could say, with something your father pointed out to me the other day. It is not a very easy thing, but I daresay I will survive."

He remained silent, not sure what she wanted to hear from him. It was obvious that something had affected his mother, but she wasn't sharing that with him.

"No, no, there is nothing for you to worry about. Let me assure you of that much. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm afraid I've taken too much of your time away from your fiancée as it is," she said, her words tumbling over each other.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Are you trying to get rid of me, Mother? By sending me over to Hermione?"

"Get rid of you? Never. But it's hardly polite of me to stay here and chat with you, when I am the hostess. Go on. I'll leave it to Miss Granger to keep you entertained for the rest of the night."

And just like that, his mother shooed him off. Draco pondered over the rather strange conversation he had with his mother. Up until the end, he thought that he was going to have to endure another one of her lectures on how to construct a cunning plan while she also tried to reassure herself that he wasn't in danger of losing his heart to Hermione. Obviously he had said something to make his mother stop short, but he had no clue what it was that he had said. That was really too bad, as he would have liked to have known how to get out from one of her lectures. Telling her that he was no longer a little boy who needed his mother to watch out for him simply did not work.

However, Draco put those thoughts behind him as he walked back to Hermione. His fiancée had evidently got the upper hand in her conversation with Nadia and the other Ravenclaws while he was away for she was no longer blushing. She also wasn't paying much attention to him for she was too caught up in looking in the opposite direction from him. Languidly he slid back into place beside her and bent over to whisper in her ear, "Whatever are you looking at, my dear?"

He was gratified by the way she jumped up in startled pleasure as his breath hit her skin. Immediately she whirled around, raising her eyes to meet his. "Draco!" she exclaimed. "I wasn't expecting you to be back so soon," she said almost accusingly.

He merely rolled back on his heels with a smug smirk on his face. "Darling, you know how much I loathe being away from you."

Hermione's head gave an odd jerk, as she started then stopped herself from rolling her eyes. "The feeling's mutual," she said for the benefit of their audience. "So what did your mother have to say? It did look rather urgent."

"It turned out not to be," he said. It did not escape his attention how Hermione hadn't answered his question. He quickly glanced over to where she had been looking before and was greeted by the sight of Balthazar Merlose, talking fervently to a small group of pure-bloods. Draco frowned briefly before focusing his attention on his fiancée once more. While he would dearly love to know what was going on there, it was all too likely that Merlose would stop spinning whatever tales he was spinning. Besides Draco knew that he could count on his family. He was willing to bet that either his mother or his father—and perhaps even both—would hear about the rumors the old man was trying to spread tonight. So it was perfectly safe for him to engage Hermione in conversation instead of monitoring her boss.

"My mother just wanted to ensure that you were having a good time," said Draco before Hermione could press him to expand upon his answer. He grimaced as he realized one beat later that Hermione wasn't likely to believe that response. "Although she didn't ask as such. She was worried that you might have complaints about the party not being up to snuff."

Hermione merely raised an eyebrow, and he could see the wheels turning in her head as she interpreted that remark. Draco privately thought that it was a very good lie. His mother was likely, after all, to expect Hermione to complain about the party in some manner. In any event, she didn't challenge the truth of his words.

"I hope you conveyed to her how much I appreciate all this," she said.

"Of course. That's why I'm here now. Mother does have a reputation to keep up with," said Draco. Then a wicked idea came to him. "She said you could best show your appreciation by keeping me entertained." That immediately got the reaction he was looking for. Hermione's entire face turned scarlet as Nadia and her friends did their best to muffle their laughter.

He matter-of-factly observed the scene. "Apparently, she's not the only one who thinks so," he remarked dryly. It became clear to him that the other witches had been teasing Hermione about him earlier. It was too bad that he hadn't really been listening to what they were saying back then, for he would have like to have known that. _And that's not the first time I thought that tonight. I guess I better start paying closer attention to the women in my life_, he silently chided himself, shaking his head from side to side.

His still-blushing fiancée lifted her chin. "I wasn't aware you had to be kept entertained," she said. "I thought you were capable of taking care of yourself."

Draco narrowed his eyes. He didn't think what she said sounded all that good to him. After all, he could see one particular interpretation for her words that he didn't much like. "I see. I wasn't aware that you considered keeping me company to be such a chore," he drawled, taking a step closer to her so that he could touch her. He reached out one hand and laid it on the small of her back. He whispered to her softly, so that no one else could hear, "Being ignored is something else that I shan't put up with."

She raised her eyes to meet his, not giving an inch. Then she took him by surprise and stood up on her tiptoes to swiftly kiss him. It was over before he knew it, and she was turning back to her friends, throwing a saucy wink their way. "I like him best when he's all brooding like that. Makes him more handsome, I think," she told them. She then turned back to him and smiled brilliantly, before leaning her head against his arm.

For once, Draco was completely speechless. He hadn't expected that at all. He had thought that maybe she had meant to challenge by implying she might insist on separate beds or some rubbish like that. However, she was clearly flirting with him and in public no less. He really didn't know what she meant by it at all. Had she truly gone and lost her head over him? While that was his intention for her, it was sort of disappointing for him to think that it was so easy to make her fall in love with him. He supposed it could also just be an act so that the rumors would continue that they were madly in love with one another.

The more he thought about it, the more that made sense. It wasn't like Hermione to lose her heart so easily. However, it was to her benefit for everyone to believe that theirs was a love match. It was also to her benefit for her to cooperate with him, seeing the truce that they had reached. It was too bad for her that she was just playing into his hands. Draco hid a smirk. Maybe his father had been right after all about how easy it was to fall in love simply by acting like lovers. That would make his life easier when it came to his plans for her.

* * *

Hermione gloated to herself, happy with the dumbstruck look that had appeared on Draco's face when he had realized that she was actively flirting with him. She was very happy that she had been spot on about all of his reactions so far. She had made an educated guess—based on their conversation earlier this evening—that his feathers would be ruffled at any intimation on her part that their marriage would be in name only. And she also thought that he would be taken by surprise when she made her coquettish reply, as that had been his reaction the other night in the library.

She wasn't going to fool herself, however. She still didn't know him as well as she needed to. But she was making progress, and that was something. Said progress would be aided by the fact Draco was attracted to her. She hid a smirk. People never expected it of her, but she did know how to make an impression on someone when she took the time.

But now was no time for her to sit back and congratulate herself. Draco Malfoy might have caught her off guard, and though in some ways, it was already too late for her, she was going to make the best of a bad situation. She had made wonderful progress with him, but there was still a long way to go. For one, she did wonder just why he had been staring at her so intently throughout the evening. Though Nadia and her friends had teased her about having Draco under her spell, she knew better than that. He had to be planning something. She had to be ready for whatever that plan was. Not to mention the fact, that there were many other variables she had to look out for.

Unbidden, her gaze drifted over to where her boss stood, surrounded by a group of pure-blood wizards and witches. She repressed a sigh of exasperation. She didn't know what the crafty old man was saying, but she was willing to bet it wasn't anything she would like. Merlose had never liked her. It wouldn't be too surprising for if he was campaigning against her. That would simply have to be something else for her to look out for.

"Do you wish to go over and say hello to your boss?" Draco whispered in her ear. She almost jumped up in surprise. Hermione had thought she had been discreet when it came to keeping track of where that old wizard was. It was simply more evidence that she had to proceed very carefully when she was around Draco.

"No, I don't particularly want to. I'm not exactly his favorite person in the world," she admitted.

Her fiancé lifted one elegant eyebrow at that remark. "The more fool he. It should be obvious that you're a valuable asset to the Department of Mysteries." He twisted his lips. "Though that might be part of it. Old Merlose is infamous for getting rid of any potential rivals for his position. You might want to watch your back there."

Hermione couldn't help but snort. It seemed so incongruous, the way Draco was warning her. They had agreed to try and get along, but she was still getting used to that development. It had felt odd, just then, to listen to the genuine concern in his voice, although she did appreciate it. "Thank you," she said. "I'll definitely keep that in mind."

"You do that." He bent closer to her, so close that his breath tickled her neck and she could practically hear his heartbeat. "And I'll also see what I can find out."

That was an offer she couldn't refuse. While she wasn't about to admit that she needed help, she wasn't going to refuse any offer of it either. "Please," she said simply.

He gave her a smile that just about took her breath away. "Leave it to me, darling. I can't have that old fool troubling you, especially not when you already have your hands full with planning our wedding." That was all that was said on the subject for the rest of the evening, as they both had to go back to socializing with their friends. Yet Hermione felt as though she could trust Draco, even though she couldn't pin down a single reason why.

* * *

**Author's note:** This one has been a long time coming. Sorry for the wait, but I hope it was worth it.

The next chapter should be up in a couple of weeks. And I _really_ mean that. I want to finish this fic—well before November would be nice, but realistically before the end of this year. Which is completely possible, seeing how the fic should only be thirty chapters in length, although that may or may not include the prologue and epilogue.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter: nonentity, x3myheartbeat, Chanteur d'ombre, PotterEntourage, PotterEntourage, inadaze22, GiggleGirl89, Dame Brittany, oneamsoundstage, twin-v, Pfirsich, mlui, x3xxshazz, misssweetsweet, dynonugget, TheDreamerLady, Snowe, reimihara21, waterlilies52, kazfeist, stellarxmystery, Ayame89, Ice, sjrodgers108, KoRnChildG, RaineyDays, snowy-cherry-blossoms, megsamadhi, backupbecool, ChevalierDeDame, Lea1286, mkhtl, and becky86. I really enjoyed reading all of your comments. :D


	26. Fragments of Memories

**Ambition's End: Fragments of Memories**

**Disclaimer:** Nothing you recognize is mine. They all belong to JKR.

* * *

Rubbing at his eyes, Draco slowly but surely made his way down to breakfast the next day. While Hermione's birthday party was officially over at midnight, the stragglers didn't leave until the small hours of the morning. That normally was the only reason he needed for a lie-in, but he knew that his parents would be taking breakfast at their normal time. Once upon a time, he had been amazed at their fortitude, but he now knew that his mother was likely to retreat to her bedroom after taking a short walk through her gardens while his father was likely to spend the rest of the day napping in his favorite armchair in his study.

Unfortunately Draco didn't have the same luxury of time that the two of them had. After breakfast, he would head in to work. Not because there was anyone to scold him—that was one of the perks of being your own boss—but because there was so much on his plate to do that he couldn't afford to take off, not even for one day. Being responsible like that was one of the downsides to growing up.

The thought crossed his mind that what he planning to do right now wasn't very grown up. Going to his parents for help was more the act of a boy rather than that of a grown wizard. Draco allowed himself a small sigh. Once upon a time, when he was younger and infinitely more foolish, he thought nothing of leaning on his parents. Now he preferred not to, but he didn't have much of a choice. For one, his parents had more contacts within the Wizarding World simply as they had been around longer. Draco silently promised himself to work on making those contacts his own, perhaps with Hermione's help, once he dealt with more pressing issues. But regardless of that, he knew that he would have to ask his parents to act as intermediaries with society in the present case. There were plenty of people who would smile and nod if he defended Hermione to them only later to spread nasty rumors about him being under some spell behind his back.

His parents, on the other hand, were a different story. The mere idea of Hermione enchanting his father into accepting her was laughable at best. And as for the same to apply to his mother—well, Draco didn't think there was anyone foolish enough in the Wizarding World to harbor such a blatantly ridiculous notion. Hence they would be far more effective in counteracting whatever rumors Merlose was spreading. He hoped he could get them to agree to do so. He knew he should be able to for he was cognizant of what his parents' weaknesses and had every intention to use such knowledge to his advantage.

He paused ever so briefly, barely breaking stride, to check that he was presentable before entering the dining room. "Good morning," he called out, far more cheerfully than he felt. He walked over to his chair and sat down, drawing his napkin into his lap with his next motion. Breakfast appeared before him, the kitchen elves as vigilant as ever with their duties.

The eyebrows of both his parents were raised as they watched him. "Good morning, Draco," his mother said pleasantly. "I must confess that I didn't exactly expect to see you at breakfast this morning."

"Particularly not on time," his father added. "That must mean that he wants something."

"Indeed," his mother agreed.

Draco fought the urge to roll his eyes. His parents could be impossible to deal with when they decided to join forces against him. "And whatever could I possibly want?" he asked. "It seems to me that I have everything I want. Didn't you make sure of that?" he finished. A touch of bitterness infused his voice.

His parents' reaction was not what he had expected. They exchanged a glance, one indicative of them communicating with each other rather than feeling guilty for the mess they had made of his life. Then his mother gracefully inclined her head at his father. "Silly me, I guess. I thought perhaps you wouldn't be too happy with that one article in today's _Prophet_," she said lightly.

Draco closed his eyes. It was far too early for his parents to be testing his patience. "What article?" He silently swore revenge upon his contacts at the _Prophet_ if anything negative has been written about his and Hermione's relationship. His father idly lifted a hand. The paper floated up from its spot on the table and swung through the air over to Draco.

Draco glanced down at it, then scowled. Pasted all over the front page was the news that not one, but two, pure-blood wizards were murdered sometime last night. "I can't believe it," he said. "First Higgs, and now Grissom and Hardin?" He snorted. "It's getting dangerous for young pure-bloods to be walking around. I can't believe the Aurors are taking these cases seriously. They don't seem to be making any progress."

"No," said his mother. "But that isn't what concerns you the most, now is it?"

He lifted his head. He knew that tone of hers. It was imperative that he chose his words carefully. "Trust me, Mother, I am concerned about the Aurors' lack of progress, especially as I know that I would make a tempting target. Tell me, what do you think that my biggest concern is then?"

His parents exchanged another glance, and this time his mother deferred to his father. "I am certain that it has not escaped your notice that the very first death was that of Marcus Flint. And he happened to die after his failed attempt upon your fiancée's life."

"I know that," Draco replied through gritted teeth. "I assure you that Hermione had nothing to do with that or any of these other murders."

"I wouldn't be so quick to leap to her defense," his mother muttered.

"Well I would," Draco snapped.

His father lifted an eyebrow. "Watch your tongue," he chided mildly. "Your mother only has your best interests at heart."

"That doesn't make her right."

"No, I'm afraid it doesn't. I happen to agree with you. I doubt that your Miss Granger had anything to do with these deaths. Particularly not these last two, seeing how she was present at the manor the entire evening. Don't you agree, darling?" Lucius sternly looked over at his wife.

She huffed but nodded her head. "Yes," she muttered savagely. "However, her friends weren't there the entire time."

"Very good, dear. I've always admired how quickly your mind adjusts to changing information," his father said drolly. "If Potter is truly out to get us…well, I don't think that there's much we could do to stop him."

"If it makes you feel better, I don't think that's the case," Draco noted.

"Neither do I. I have it on very good authority that Potter and Weasley have been working overtime just like all the rest of the Aurors," his father stated.

Draco was tempted to question his father about where he had learned that nugget of information. He knew that both his parents had contacts that he wasn't aware of. What Draco hadn't known was that his father had anyone in the ranks of the Aurors still willing to even acknowledge him. He tucked that particular question away to be looked into later. He settled for saying, "I do remember Hermione complaining that she almost never sees them these days as they're always either on duty or on call."

"That sounds about right," said his father.

"Astonishing then that they haven't made more progress. Seeing how they're supposedly always working," his mother put in sharply.

"There is that," replied Lucius calmly. "And do be careful when you're out and about, Draco. But to get back to my original point—"

"Finally," Narcissa said with a roll of her eyes. "I thought you would never get there."

"Hush, dear. You did defer to me, if I remember correctly," said Lucius. "Seeing how these rash of murders didn't start until after the attempt on Miss Granger's life, it's only natural for some people to associate her with it." He paused, his sense of dramatic timing as keen as ever. "What I find disturbing is the fact that her boss is fanning the flames against her."

His worst suspicions were confirmed. "So that is what the old fool was doing last night!" Draco exclaimed. There was more he wanted to say about how insufferable Merlose was, but he wisely held his tongue.

"Did you expect anything differently?" Though Lucius Malfoy's tone was very mild, the look he gave his son was anything but. Draco knew that his father was all but ordering him to get on with making his request.

Draco coughed nervously. "Not really. It's just unfortunate. Well you must know how it is. I can't very well say anything to defend her…people would just start talking about love potions and other such nonsense. On the other hand, if you two tried to counteract those rumors…."

"Undoubtedly, we would have more success," his father finished for him.

"Yes, that's exactly it," said Draco. He waited for a response from his parents, but none was forthcoming. An uncomfortably long silence filled the room, so long that he felt compelled to speak. "I just would like to do something nice for her. Seeing how she's already under so much stress trying to put our wedding together and that I inadvertently added to that stress because I wanted to get married so quickly." Draco regretted saying that as soon as the words left his mouth. It sounded like a very poor excuse, and he doubted it would convince his parents to help him out. He decided to switch tactics, appealing to their Slytherin sensibilities.

"But more importantly than all of that," he said, "just think of how it would reflect upon our family name. Society did its best to ignore us for so long because of our association with the wrong side in the previous war. After my engagement was announced, that began to change. We were welcomed once more. I would like to keep it that way, but the way Merlose slanders Hermione's good name…well, it is also not good for the Malfoy name."

"True enough," his father replied. "Very good the way you pulled that explanation out of thin air. But you didn't have to bother. I believed it when you said that you simply wanted to relieve your Miss Granger of a little bit of stress." Lucius' eyes strayed over to the figure of his wife. "Wouldn't you agree, Narcissa?"

She looked down at her hands, her mouth twitching into a frown. "Yes I suppose I do," she said, a touch sadly. Lucius reached over to grasp one of Narcissa's hands in his own before speaking again.

"So as you see, Draco, your mother and I are perfectly willing to help you combat Merlose's appalling lies." A smirk covered his face then, and the years faded from his face for that one instant. "You simply had to ask," he went on, gesturing with his free hand. "There was no need for such an elaborate set up. Just think of all the time you wasted by not being straightforward."

"I see," said Draco. While he was happy that his parents had agreed so readily, he hated this feeling of being lectured once more. He sighed. He supposed there was nothing he could do about it. In his parents' eyes, he would always be their little boy. Draco would simply have to learn to live with it—and exploit it as a weakness on their parts when necessary.

"Thank you," he told them both. The conversation changed to more pleasant topics. Before he knew it, he had finished with his breakfast and it was time for him to get to the office.

* * *

"Very good, darling," said Lucius to his wife after their son had left. "I had thought you would have put up more of a fight when it came to helping Miss Granger."

His wife rolled her eyes. "You do have an awful habit of underestimating me, my dear. Besides what aid I offer isn't for her benefit. It is for Draco's." She sighed. "The two of us have put him through so much."

"I know," he said, closing his eyes. That had been the hardest thing about losing the war—realizing that he had put his wife and his son through so much hardship and danger for nothing at all.

"So I feel that I owe it to Draco to see that his family name does not gain another blemish. Even though I do worry about whether Miss Granger is involved or not."

"Really?" He cocked an eyebrow up at that remark.

She looked down and away from him, apparently flustered. "Well…no, not really. But sometimes I wish that—"

He gently reached out to caress her cheek, taking care to wipe away the tear that was running down it. "You would have lost him one day anyway, my dear."

"I know," she said. "You were right about that. There is no point in wishing things were different, in hoping for a way I could draw him away from her. Especially not when they are so well suited for each other. It's just…the way he kept looking at her last night…it really made it clear that I've already lost him to her." She lifted her eyes to meet her husband's gaze. "I wasn't quite ready for that."

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss against her forehead. "My dear, I doubt there was any way you could have been prepared for such a notion. But you're accepting the fact and adapting to it…just like a good Slytherin should."

That coaxed a small smile out of her. "Thank you ever so much, dearest husband, for such effusive praise."

"Don't mention it."

She gave a small sigh of exasperation. "You are simply impossible, and you are well aware of that fact." She twitched her nose, an act he found utterly adorable. "I only hope that your son takes after you in that regard. That would serve _her_ right." Her tone took on a savage touch.

He couldn't help but laugh. His wife was simply enchanting when she was feeling vengeful. "Well said, my dear, well said."

"I'm so glad I could amuse you," she said wryly. "Shall we start planning how to combat that awful upstart's slander against our son's intended?" A look of fierce determination covered her face, and she sat up straight in her seat. "For make no mistake. Regardless of my personal feelings towards her, I will not allow a fool like Merlose to get the better of a future Malfoy like that."

* * *

"And that's that," said Katie.

Hermione couldn't believe her ears. She gaped at her friend, whose only reaction was to grin broadly at her. "Do you mean we're done?"

"Yes."

"As in completely finished?"

"That too."

"As in all the little details dealt with and nothing left for us to do—"

"Yes, with nothing left for you to do except sit back and relax until your wedding day."

Hermione narrowed her eyes and glared at her friend. "Don't think that I didn't notice that."

"Notice what?" Katie's aura was one of complete innocence.

Hermione sighed and pressed on. "Notice how you distinctly stated that I have nothing else to do, while leaving out mention of yourself."

"Oh that. I never thought that I would get that past you. I am well aware of your reputation for being clever, you know."

She tapped her foot impatiently. "That's not answering my question. If there's something else to do, then let's do it. I'm not the sort of person to leave a project unfinished."

"Only you would refer to your wedding as just another project. Takes all the romance out of it," Katie said. "But don't worry about a thing. It's the bridesmaid's most sacred duty, I believe, to ensure that the bride makes it to her wedding day with her sanity intact. I'll just be keeping an eye on things to make sure that everything comes in the way it should. If anything happens that does require your attention, I'll let you know."

"So that's really it?"

"Yes. Haven't I said that before?"

Hermione let go of the breath she had been holding and sank back against the sofa. "What a relief! There were times I thought we would never finish."

"Here, here," agreed Katie. She too leaned back in her seat. "Some parts took much longer than I anticipated."

Hermione snorted. "Well who could have guessed that it would have taken us that long to get the seating arrangements down?"

Her friend groaned. "Merlin. Don't remind me. I think my mistake was inviting Mrs Malfoy to help us. And by help, I mean that loosely, very loosely."

"Yes," said Hermione. "To be fair though, I hadn't been aware of all the little feuds going on in pure-blood society."

Katie raised an eyebrow. "Defending your future mother-in-law now? Will wonders never cease?"

"More like future hag-in-law." She wrinkled her nose at the thought. "Except with less wrinkles."

"But so much more snark. It rather evens out, don't you think? And besides, we wouldn't have to worry about all one hundred of her closest friends if she hadn't been so difficult in the first place."

"Isn't that my point to make?" mused Hermione. "Can you believe that I originally just wanted a small wedding? With just fifty guests at most?"

Katie looked her friend up and down. "Yes, I can see that. But don't tell me you expected that, not with you marrying Draco Malfoy."

She sighed. "No I didn't really expect that. But I didn't expect it to get so large either. I was thinking maybe one hundred guests at most."

"More proof that you should never claim not to be an optimist," Katie noted. "If I were in your shoes, I would have counted it a victory to have a wedding with less than five hundred guests."

In mock horror, Hermione gasped and clasped her hands to her chest. "Dear Merlin! Don't even suggest such a thing!" She paused for dramatic effect. "Just think how long the seating arrangements would have taken then!"

The two witches collapsed in laughter. Tears of merriment fell down their faces as they traded jokes in the same vein. Hermione's sides began to ache from laughing so much. "Enough, enough," she said. She took a deep breath and tried to regain her composure. "We've better stop, otherwise I'll have nightmares of a guest list half a mile long."

"You and me both," said Katie. "It's too funny though. I completely lost track of time." She then frowned as something occurred to her. "Isn't it time for you to be going back home? Not that you're not welcome to stay, but it is getting rather late."

A quick glance at the clock told her that her friend was right. "Oh dear. I hadn't noticed that it was past ten," she said. She frowned to herself, thinking that it would be best for her just to Apparate back home, given what had been in the news this morning.

"Neither had I. I guess we were just having too much fun."

"There is that." Hermione rose from her seat, then paused. She needed to thank Katie for everything that the other witch had done for her. She knew very well that if her friend hadn't intervened and insisted upon helping her, then she would still be trying to iron out all the details for her wedding. However, just saying thanks didn't seem adequate enough—but it was the only thing she could think of saying at the moment.

"Thank you," she said simply. "For everything. Really, if it weren't for you—"

Katie raised up her hand, interrupting her words. "I know what you're going to say, Hermione, and trust me, it's not necessary. It's what you would have done if our situations were reversed."

Hermione winced. She didn't think that Katie would think that way if the older witch knew how she had been manipulated.

Katie pressed on. "And you might think this silly, but I kind of feel it should be me thanking you. It's awfully boring, just sitting around with nothing to do. Helping you plan your wedding…it was a real eye opener for me. It made me rethink what I'll be doing with my life. There are still so many opportunities for me, even though I'll never play Quidditch again."

"I think you would have found that out anyway," said Hermione.

"Maybe, but it would have taken me longer," said Katie. "So let's call it even, shall we? Besides, if you insist on effusive thanks, that will only embarrass me to no end."

"All right," said Hermione. Inwardly she promised herself that she would eventually find a way to make things up to Katie. She wouldn't try to rush to a solution either; she would take her time and figure out the right way to help her friend find love again. She spent several more minutes saying good-bye to her friend before she Apparated back home to her flat.

When she arrived, Hermione immediately scanned the wards. There was no sign of any breach, or for that matter, any attempt at breaching her wards. She emitted a soft sigh. She walked over to her sofa and sat down. Hermione closed her eyes, thinking of everything that had happened that day.

She hadn't arrived home until the early morning hours, lingering at Malfoy Manor and at the party the Malfoys had thrown for her twenty-first birthday. As such, she woke up a couple hours late. She had decided to eat breakfast and read the paper first before heading into work. However, she had lost all semblance of an appetite when she saw the news plastered all over the _Daily Prophet_. Two pure-blood wizards, Grissom and Hardin, had each been found dead in London the night before.

Hermione groaned out loud. That was the entire reason why she had Apparated back home instead of walking the way she usually did. She knew better than to make a target out of herself like that. While it was obvious to anyone who stopped to think that she couldn't have done in those two wizards as she had been at the party at Malfoy Manor all night long, she knew perfectly well that Wizarding society was beginning to believe that she had some connection to that rash of murders. And Hermione was willing to bet that Balthazar Merlose wasn't doing anything to quell that rumor.

_Rather the opposite, I should think, if the way he acted last night is anything to go by_, she thought to herself. _And on the other side, I have...Givens._

She frowned to herself. While she had no concrete evidence that Givens was behind all the deaths, she knew that he had to be connected to them somehow. It wasn't mere coincidence that Flint had died while under his charge. Higgs had been a natural second target, seeing how that wizard had been on Flint's mailing list. She was surprised that Hyral hadn't been taken out yet for the same reason. She made a mental note to herself to look discreetly into that wizard's whereabouts. Maybe he had some information that would be useful in trapping Givens and whatever associates he had. Of course, that was only a possibility if he was still alive. Hermione couldn't discount the possibility that Hyral was already dead and the Aurors just hadn't found his body yet. She would have to be very careful to make certain that she wasn't the one to find any victims. That would only further blemish her reputation amongst the pure-bloods.

_Convenient, isn't it, how I have enemies on both sides._ She got up and began pacing back and forth. Though she was tired, she was on the verge of formulating a new plan, one which would bring both of her enemies down. _It seems like I should be able to play one side off the other. The only question is how._ She thought up of several different methods, but each had its own set of flaws.

The main problem with her idea was the fact that Merlose and Givens weren't naturally at odds. Merlose was in charge of the Department of Mysteries, while Givens headed the Aurors in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. There was no power struggle between the two of them there. And while Merlose was clearly sympathetic to the cause of pure-blood superiority, he didn't actually take up Voldemort's cause during the war. Instead he chose the path of eschewing the violent methods of the Death Eaters. Hence he wasn't a natural target for Givens' vengeance as so far Givens had only targeted wizards who families had supported the Dark Lord during the war.

Hermione decided to make herself a pot of tea to help herself relax. It was certainly an interesting thought exercise, trying to suss out a way to kill two birds with one stone. As she set the kettle on the stove, she wondered if it was actually possible to set her two enemies on each other. She leaned against her kitchen table, her hands gripping the edge to help keep her balance. Her forehead scrunched up as she continued to think of ways she could make her idea a reality.

_I think it can be done_, she decided. _They seem to be such natural foils, and I can feed all the information I want to Givens...well assuming that my owl mail is truly compromised by someone at the Ministry. I must test that soon, to know if the Ministry is intercepting my mail and under what circumstances. And it might help if I can confirm it's Givens' doing, and not someone else's. That's the whole crux of my problems. I don't have enough information yet to come up with a plan to pull off getting rid of both Givens and Merlose. There has to be a way though! _ Absentmindedly she drummed her fingers against the wood. _I just have to be patient and take my time in constructing a plan. Although...if I get the chance to get rid of Givens or find out who his allies are or anything like that, I have to take it. Because I can't let this murder spree keep going._

The sharp whistle of the water boiling brought her out of her reverie. She jumped up and turned the stove off, before proceeding to pour the water in her tea pot, which was charmed to remove the leaves once the tea was done. She then pulled out a chair and sat down as she waited for the tea to steep.

_Yes, I think that's what I'll do. Go on and try to find out as much information about both Merlose and Givens. Try to find out if Givens is working with anyone. I should think that he is, otherwise he's been very lucky to have no one to stumble upon him. Or maybe someone already has and that's why _two _wizards were killed last night._

She shook her head, not happy about that last thought of hers. "It would be like Givens to get rid of anyone who might have seen him," she muttered to herself. "No matter. One way or another, I'll put an end to his string of murders." A smirk spread across her face, one that would not be out of place on any member of her fiancé's family. "And with any luck, I'll take care of Merlose at the same time too."

* * *

"You look like shit, to put it mildly, Chambers," Draco noted as his informant in the Aurors slumped down on the window sill. Draco himself leaned against a nearby pillar, casually keeping an eye out for any passers-by who might see them.

"Thanks for the observation, Malfoy, but I had already figured that out," the other wizard shot back. "You try working eighteen hour days for weeks on end and see how you look like. Something tells me you wouldn't be such a pretty boy then."

"You think I'm pretty?" Draco asked mockingly. "Thank you for the compliment Chambers, but I assure you I don't swing that way."

Chambers glared at him. "I don't believe our arrangement ever had me agreeing to deal with what passes for wit with you."

"Chambers, if you agree to deal with me at all, then you've agreed to put up with my wit," Draco returned. "But enough of this. I had been wondering why you hadn't been answering any of my owls asking for a meeting. Now I know why."

"You didn't before? I thought it was common knowledge that Givens is working the Auror unit to the bone these days," Chambers mumbled.

"Yes, everyone knows that the Aurors are supposedly working around the clock. However, because of certain rumors going around, at least half the Wizarding World believes you're just having fun and games when you are on duty."

"Really?" Chambers' tone was icy. "And you believed such rumors?"

Draco scoffed openly. "I know better than to believe every single shred of gossip that runs amuck. I had to wonder, however, why you couldn't be bothered to send me a short note back." He grimaced openly. "What is your boss thinking? Doesn't he know that you all are more likely to make mistakes if he keeps making you work when you're exhausted?"

"If you could get that through his thick skull, you would be the hero of not only myself, but just about the whole damn department. No, that idiot doesn't know that." Chambers scowled, his brow furrowing up. "And if I didn't know better, I would say he had it out for both me and Zabini."

Draco gauged the expression of the wizard before him. It was obvious that Chambers did believe that his boss had it in for him, although it didn't look like he was about to say why. He frowned. If he had to guess, he would say that the head Auror was prejudiced against Slytherins and so was especially hard on Zabini and his partner. It was unfortunately an attitude that pervaded the Wizarding World these days. "How is Zabini? He's been conspicuously scarce these last couple weeks. It's a wonder that there aren't any rumors going around something awful having happened to him."

"Let's just say, if you think I have it bad, he has it worse. Technically, he's still my partner but he's been chained to his desk, dealing with mountains of paperwork. And trust me, when Aurors run an investigation, they create a lot of paperwork."

"Dare I hope that you all are making any progress?"

"When it comes to ruling out potential suspects, we're making tons of progress. When it comes to actually figuring out who did it…let me get back to you on that one." Chambers' expression changed to one of chagrin. "There is something else though."

"And what, pray tell, is that?" Draco could feel his ire rising. From the way Chambers was hesitant to speak up, he knew it wasn't going to be anything he liked.

The other wizard took a good look at Draco's face and visibly gulped. He looked from side to side, as though searching for an escape route just in case. Draco was on the verge of hexing the damn fool to speak when he finally opened his mouth again. "There is an interesting thread of speculation going around. Hinges on when the attacks on pure-bloods started and all that." Chambers took a deep breath and then forged on. "Some say that Hermione Granger is at the heart of it all, that she's the one planning these murders."

"I see. Would you care to share with me why you thought that I might be interested in such rubbish?" Though his tone was as cold as ice, inwardly he was filled with fury about the whole situation.

Chambers winced. He was no fool, and he knew what a fine line he was treading. "Normally I wouldn't bother. I know better than to trust rumors, and I am certainly not the sort to go about repeating them. More often than not, they're completely false. Like that one about us Aurors not actually working. That's just the talk of But this one…this one comes from a fairly source, you could say."

"From Balthazar Merlose perhaps?"

"Ah yes. I know what you're going to say. That he's not to be trusted, given his current feud with your fiancée. But it's more than that. There's a timeline that goes with it. Flint dies after he attacked Granger. Coincidence, right? But Granger was seen in the vicinity of Diagon Alley when Higgs was found. And it's not common knowledge, but Higgs was one of Flint's associates. It's too convenient to be just coincidence."

"I suppose whoever volunteered the information that Hermione was seen in Diagon Alley that day failed to mention that I was there with her."

"The entire time? Where was she before you met?"

Draco lifted his eyes to glare full force at the other wizard. Chambers shrank back from his glower. "Before that she was being fitted for her wedding robes. Is she under investigation?"

"What? No, no. Not at all. Givens seems convinced of her innocence. Most of the Aurors are, her friends and Zabini included."

"It's a pity that obviously you're not one of them." Draco debated whether or not to cut ties with Chambers then and there. On one hand, the former Ravenclaw was seriously irritating him. On the other hand, it had been dastardly hard to find an informant amongst the Aurors. More importantly, if he was to distance himself from his feelings, he could appreciate how Chambers was bringing these rumors to his attention in order to warn him about Hermione. However, he had already realized how dangerous his witch could be and he had taken appropriate measures to ensure she would never raise her wand against him.

He couldn't help but mentally congratulate himself once more on that accomplishment. No, his witch was already too enamored of him to think of harming him. He had done a good job there. He congratulated himself silently before turning his attention back to the situation at hand.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Hermione would never harm me," he said with complete assurance. "She's not the sort to harm anyone really, not unless they've tried to do something to her first. Merlose is just being an opportunist and trying to bring her down by spreading nasty lies."

"I see," said Chambers cautiously. Doubt lurked behind his eyes.

"Do you?" Draco asked rhetorically. "In any event, I appreciate your warning about how vicious Merlose has become in his campaign against my fiancée. I trust that you will do everything in your power to counteract him."

"Of course," was Chambers' reply. "I must warn you, I don't think I can do much. Like I said, every single Auror I know believes in her innocence."

"Then the least you can do is never to repeat such rubbish ever again," Draco bit out.

The other wizard got his message. He bobbed his head up and down. "The only reason why I ever mentioned it was to be completely certain that you've heard of it. I am happy to learn that you already knew about them and are taking appropriate actions to protect your interests," said Chambers. Though his words were formal, his tone was anything but subservient. He met Draco's eyes for a minute, reminding the Slytherin not to push too far. "If you'll excuse me, I had best get back to work. My break is just about over."

A thought occurred to Draco about some other information he would like to know. "A moment, if you will. Tell me, do you know of anyone who truly believes in what Merlose is saying."

Chambers exhaled sharply. "None of the Aurors, like I already said. I think her fellow Unspeakables are also taking what Merlose is saying with a grain of salt—although some of them may not be above repeating his ideas in an effort to kiss up to the old man. I'll check into that," he added quickly before Draco could ask. "The Minister doesn't believe the rumors and so his staff would be quick to disavow them."

"So there is no one then?"

"I wouldn't say that. Obviously most people won't openly speak against her. She is one of the Golden Trio after all. No one wants to bring down Potter's wrath upon his head. Some of the older pure-bloods still working in the Ministry however…they've begun congregating. You can sometimes see them speaking amongst themselves. I can't confirm what they're talking about—they always break apart when someone approaches them—but that's who I would suspect of believing Merlose."

"Thank you," said Draco. He was happy to hear that Hermione's reputation was still sterling for the most part. As for the rest, hopefully his countermeasures would make them change their minds.

"Don't mention it," said Chambers. "Now I really must get back to work. That way I can get home with enough time for some sleep tonight." He stiffly stood up and glanced around. Seeing that there were no onlookers, he proceeded to walk back towards the central hallway that led to the lifts.

Draco hung back and waited for some time after. He didn't want to take any chances about anyone seeing him and Chambers in the same place. The fact that he was in no rush to get to his next destination also contributed to his decision to take his time in leaving the meeting spot. He hung back and waited patiently. To pass the time, he mentally ran through the roster of his Quidditch team, trying to figure out what holes he had to plug there.

_It's been about fifteen minutes. I guess it's safe now. Time to head on over to Diagon Alley,_ he thought to himself. He strolled down towards the Apparition chamber at the Ministry. While he wasn't particularly looking forward to his next meeting, he didn't meander along either. Draco knew that he had to settle the question of where he and Hermione would live after they got married soon. If he did not, then he _would_ have to rush when it came to closing the deal and making arrangements for the house to be habitable.

Not having as much time as he would have liked naturally narrowed down his options, and Draco had just about decided on the house he was going to visit now. It was just about perfect. It was a new development in Wizarding London, right outside of Diagon Alley, and already there was a waiting list half a mile long. He had only been able to jump the queue by liberal use of his family's fortune. That and the fact that he and Hermione were the ultimate poster couple for the new community being built. Diggory Square was the name the developers had given it, but it was better known as Unity Square. Already it was the rage amongst the younger set.

Of course, Draco wouldn't have even considered buying a home there if it weren't for the all amenities offered. The basic furnishings the house came with were anything but basic. They were luxurious enough to do for a start, although he expected they would eventually redecorate the entire dwelling. More importantly, layers and layers of spells were built into the house. Protection charms were grounded on the house's very foundation. The walls themselves were warded many times over, from simple charms to keep the house comfortable during the summer to complex spells that ensured the owner's absolute privacy while allowing him to eavesdrop on any conversation taking place indoors.

Last but not least, the reason why this particular residence was so attractive to Draco was the fact that it was all but ready to be lived in, unlike the other houses he had looked at. Once the purchase was finalized and the house was in his name, he would be able to start casting his own wards on the place right away. Draco knew better than to live in a house where he didn't personally check the wards and such to make certain that there weren't any nasty surprises in the spellwork. He also wanted to place his own privacy charms on top of the ones that were already built in. Because of all of this, he had all but made up his mind to purchase this particular house. Before he signed the purchase agreement, however, he wanted to walk through the residence to see if it was as advertised. That was why he had taken time out of his busy schedule to see the house today.

There was only one downside to the whole business deal, and that was also the reason why he was in no rush to get to his appointment to see the house. Draco had never relished having anything to do with Hufflepuffs, but unfortunately for his sensibilities, practically the whole development was run by Hufflepuffs. Even the damn estate agent was a Hufflepuff! _The only good thing about that is that I should be able to get a bargain,_ he thought to himself. _Everyone knows that Hufflepuffs are shit at negotiations. They should've hired a Slytherin for that job at least._

After arriving at Diagon Alley, Draco swiftly cast a Disillusionment charm on himself. He didn't want anyone following him. It wouldn't do to buy a house with all sorts of privacy wards only to lead some nosy reporter straight to it. He proceeded straight to his appointment, having no more time for delays. If the house was suitable for his purposes, then he wanted to do his best to all but seal the deal today. That way he could get his solicitor to start work on the contract tomorrow with an eye towards completing the deal early next week. Then he would be able to start layering his own charms and wards upon the piece of property.

If everything went well today, then it would be entirely possible that he could invite Hermione to see their new home next weekend. It would be entirely appropriate, he thought, if that was when he sprung his trap upon her. He allowed himself a small smirk. His victory over his lovely fiancée was so close that he could practically taste it. He could hardly wait. He could see it now, the expression on her face when he revealed all that he knew. While she was still in shock, he would broach the idea of him officially helping her with her plans for the Wizarding World in exchange for certain considerations.

Now that was a set of negotiations that he was looking forward to.

* * *

**Author's note: **An update that's on time for once! Isn't that nice? The next chapter should be up in two weeks as well.

My thanks to everyone who took the time to review the last chapter: misssweetsweet, pelagic, Chanteur d'ombre, RaineyDays, ebbe04, mkhtl, nonentity, DeliciousNewYork, Ayame89, twin-v, WinterhartZahneelCalina, karaburnes, mlui, Lea1286, Select Another, breenieweenie, DodgerMcClure, gitgit, and sarah murphy. Your comments were all lovely to read. :D


	27. Radical Dreamers

**Ambition's End: Radical Dreamers**

**Disclaimer:** Nothing you recognize is mine. They all belong to JKR.

Later that evening, Hermione was to be found treating herself to a night in. It wasn't very often that she allowed herself the luxury of curling up with a new book on her sofa. Lately there was so much for her to do, and it seemed like she was always working on one project or another. However, it felt as though a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders ever since Katie had told her that all the preparation for her wedding was done.

That had been a more time-consuming task than she had originally anticipated. She laid a good portion of the blame for that on the Malfoys; on Draco for his idea of getting married in only three months and on Narcissa for being completely unwilling to settle for a smaller event. Hermione supposed the other witch's intransigence had worked in her favor when it came to dealing with Draco. However, it did create a lot of work for her. Now that the planning for her wedding was complete, she thought she deserved to spend a night relaxing with a good book.

Hermione yawned. Thinking that something hot to drink would be nice, she got up and shuffled towards her kitchen. She briefly debated the merits of drinking coffee this late. While it was her hot beverage of choice these days, she knew that it would make it harder for her to get to sleep at a decent hour.

_I suppose that's why people keep decaffeinated coffee around. Still it seems like such a waste of good coffee beans,_ she thought. She finally decided on hot cocoa as an acceptable alternative. In a matter of minutes, she had prepared a steaming hot mug of cocoa that had the most scrumptious odor emanating from it.

She sat down at her table, happily sipping away at her drink. _Good choice. It's been so long that I've almost forgotten how reassuring a drink hot cocoa is. I should have it more often. _She closed her eyes, a tranquil mood settling over her. It felt wonderful not to have any agenda for the evening. It made her realize just how long she had been working on her plans.

_Ever since the war was finally over_, she noted silently. Her memories of the war—and of all the fear and confusion she felt during that time—were perhaps all the motivation she needed to continue working so diligently on ensuring that she changed the Wizarding World. She knew that if she didn't take action, then inevitably another conflict over similar issues would arise again, if not in her time then in her children's time. Hermione had come a long way since she had first concocted the notion of accumulating power with the eye towards bettering Wizarding society.

_Although I may have been too hasty in some of my decisions. No, there's no 'may' about it. I _was_ too hasty. Just look at poor Katie._ She sighed, saddened by that thought. While she had made incredible progress, it had unfortunately come at a high cost to her friend. Hermione desperately wanted to do something to help her friend out, but she knew that she would be unable to help Katie move on until the other witch was ready to do so. She believed that with time, Katie's feelings for Flint would fade and then Hermione could step in and play matchmaker.

That wasn't the only mistake Hermione had made, however. She was also worried about how she would deal with Draco, albeit for completely different reasons. She was honest enough with herself to admit that she had fallen for him. She didn't think Draco was putting on an act. Her instincts told her that he was being charming because he really wanted their marriage to be a happy one, instead of one full of anger and strife. That was something she could appreciate.

The down side to it was it was something that made her love him more.

She sighed heavily. There was no hope for it. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't command her heart to stop caring for the wizard. She rather thought her head could overrule her emotions if push came to shove, but she would prefer not to test that hypothesis.

_And I probably won't have to. Not if his actions during my party were any indicator. I think he's falling for me too._ She couldn't help but smile girlishly at that idea. Her heart rate increased as she remembered how he couldn't stop staring at her the entire evening. His behavior had convinced her that he was losing his heart to her. _Now that's a romantic notion. We both lose our hearts to each other and all that. I would have never believed that it could happen, no not even as recently as a year ago. But now...it _is_ the truth. It's sort of ironic how the story we made up for the papers became real. Life imitates art, I guess._

A knock on her door roused Hermione from her thoughts. _I wonder who that can be? Not Draco, I don't think. He's supposed to be coming over for dinner tomorrow night._ She bit her lip, suddenly worried that maybe she had got the day wrong. _Damn. I think it's tomorrow. If it's today...well I guess I'll have no choice but to introduce him to the wonders of take away._ That didn't sound all that bad. She suspected that he hadn't had much exposure to different cuisines. Her experiences in the Wizarding World taught her that wizards tended to be very traditional, for lack of a better word, when it came to their food choices. It would be interesting to see how Draco would react to the variety of food available in the Muggle world.

However, when she opened the door, she discovered that there was no need for her hastily concocted plan to introduce Draco to take out. She found that instead of her charming fiancé the person standing there was Nadia Beoulve-Nott. "Nadia!" she exclaimed. "What ever brings you here?" She held the door open and waved the other witch inside. "Come in, come in," she said.

She led the younger witch to her living room, where she promptly asked if Nadia wanted any refreshment. The other witch said no, which was unfortunate for she didn't feel right going back to the kitchen to retrieve her hot cocoa if her guest didn't want anything. Hermione regarded Nadia with a critical eye. The younger witch had been very quiet since she arrived, a marked difference from her usual exuberant self. It hadn't gone unnoticed by Hermione that the Ravenclaw had yet to answer her initial question.

She smiled brightly at the other witch while engaging her in mindless chatter, trying her best to make the younger witch feel at home. It was blatantly obvious that there was something weighing heavily on Nadia's mind. She was so quiet and pensive. Hermione was very much used to people coming to speak to her about their troubles. It was a useful thing. She cultivated her reputation as a good listener because she had found that it was a very good way to get information. Many a time she wouldn't have known about some problem with the Wizarding World if someone hadn't sought her out to fret about it.

"Are you certain you don't want anything to drink?" Hermione asked again. She was getting rather thirsty as she had been carrying the bulk of the conversation.

"No, I'm quite all right," Nadia said. She pressed her knees together and wrapped her arms around her.

"I see," said Hermione. She allowed herself a small frown before picking up her wand and summoning an empty glass to her. It stopped in front of her, floating in midair. She tapped it with her wand, conjuring water for herself. "I hope you don't mind me getting something for myself," she said cheerfully. Nadia shook her head from side to side as Hermione took a drink. She set the glass down on the coffee table beside her and took a deep breath. It was time to try again to get Nadia to reveal what was worrying her so.

"So what is wrong? Not that anything has to be for you to visit me…but I can't help but shake the feeling that something is," she said gently.

Nadia sniffed. "I…it's….it's nothing really," she sputtered out, her hands trembling. "Just my being silly. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be a bother."

Hermione barely held back a sigh. This was beginning to get tiresome. "I doubt you're just being silly." She decided to make a leap of faith and take an educated guess about what was worrying Nadia. "Is it Theo? Are you worried about his safety?"

"Oh yes!" the younger witch cried. "Ever so much. I've told him once or twice to be more careful…but he just laughs and tells me not to worry so much."

Hermione rolled her eyes. That was such a typical wizard response, to just blow off a witch's fears. It was no wonder that Nadia had said that she was being silly. The fact that the Ravenclaw was so young probably meant that she was more inclined to doubt herself.

Hermione wrinkled her nose as she considered what approach to take. "I don't think that's silly," she announced. "Honestly! You love him, and so of course, you're worried about him. Really, can you imagine what _his_ response would be if you laughed about his worries for your safety?"

That finally coaxed a smile out of her visitor. "Oh he wouldn't like that, not at all," Nadia said. "He would probably rant and rave. I would never hear the end of it, especially as he tends to be rather long-winded to begin with."

Hermione nodded her head vigorously. "That's exactly my point. He really should listen to you." She paused. What she wanted to say was that Nadia should make him listen to her, but she wasn't sure if the younger witch was ready for that sort of advice yet.

"He should," said Nadia. Then she looked down at her hands and shuddered. "I…I know I should press him more. Make him listen to me. I get that. It's just that…that…part of me is relieved that he doesn't want to continue the conversation."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Because you see, I am so worried about him. I can't stop thinking of that night, of what might have happened if we hadn't got him out. It's a horrible train of thought, but I can't stop going down that path once I get started." The words were now tumbling out of Nadia's mouth. Hermione simply sat back and listened.

"I couldn't bear to lose him. Not everyone believes this, but I really do adore him, I really do. He's so sweet and charming and…he's everything that I've ever wanted. And I want to help him, anyway that I can, but he won't let me. I suppose I'm too young." She sighed heavily. "Or rather, he thinks I'm too young and so he won't even broach the subject. And I feel so awful but I kind of agree with that. I'm much too young to even think of having a child!"

"I see," said Hermione. She understood where Nadia was coming from. Like many of his peers, Theo was the last of his line. That was one of the reasons why pure-bloods complied with the marriage law. It was far better to have half-blooded heirs than none at all. To Hermione, it was an old-fashioned way of thinking, but then so was the idea of blood purity.

"Has he ever hinted that he was worried about that?" she asked. Hermione vaguely waved her hand in the air, not wanting to be too direct for fear of embarrassing the other witch.

"No, never," answered Nadia.

"Then what makes you think that?"

"Oh, nothing he says. It's just that…he must be thinking about it. How could he not? I've seen him looking at his family tapestry and how his name is all alone at the end. I want to say something to him about it…but I'm scared of what his answer might be."

Hermione reflected on what she knew about Theo Nott. He had always been the quiet one in school, and it was easy to forget that he existed. Still she knew his peers and she could hazard a guess as to how he was raised. "I doubt he'll say anything to you about that," she told the other witch.

Nadia looked up, disappointment looming in her eyes. "Because he thinks I'm too young?" Tears began to fall down her face. "I am but I wish he would—"

"No, not because you're too young." Hermione reached over to grab and tissue which she handed to the other witch. Inwardly she reflected how Nadia was still just a young girl. She briefly wondered whether it had been Theo or Nadia who had pushed for their marriage to happen so quickly. Perhaps it was both of them; one of the things the war taught her generation was that it was too risky to wait for some things because then you might wind up losing them. It was blatant that Nadia and her husband were deeply in love with one another, and so that was probably why they rushed into things, rather than biding their time and getting to know one another better.

Of course she supposed an outsider might say the same thing about her own impending nuptials. The big difference was that Hermione felt decades older than the girl sitting before her. She had actually fought in the war. She had been responsible for keeping Harry alive long enough to fight that final battle. After all that, it had been her who had kept her head and started plotting on how to ensure that such a war would never be waged again. It was rather sad, but she hadn't been an innocent girl for many a season.

Hermione briefly closed her eyes to collect her thoughts before launching into an explanation to reassure Nadia. She doubted the younger witch knew what Hermione knew about pure-blood marriages. It wasn't the sort of topic covered by Hogwarts, but something she had gleaned through her readings of pure-blood traditions.

"I doubt Theo would ever think of broaching that topic with you." She raised a hand to stall the other witch's complaints. "No, not because he thinks you're too young or not ready for such a thing, but because how he was raised. You see, you have to understand how a traditional pure-blood marriage works."

Hermione adopted her lecturing mode as she continued with her explanation. "There are a myriad of reasons behind those marriages, just as many as for Muggle marriages, I imagine. Some get married to seal alliances, others to unite fortunes, and still others for love. Regardless of the reason for the marriage, having children is generally expected of all pure-blood unions. But therein lies a difference between Wizarding unions and Muggle ones—witches have always had the power to control their own fertility. If she doesn't want to get pregnant, if for some reason she feels that now is not the time for children, then she can take steps to ensure that she won't conceive, no matter what her husband wants."

Hermione paused, letting her words sink in. "Of course, the husband can do this too. Contraception charms work just as well on wizards as they do on witches. Hence a couple generally doesn't have children until they are both ready for that step. And never being ready—well, that's not really an option for pure-bloods. Most of them were drilled about the importance of continuing their line ever since they were very little. But at the same time, they learned that having children isn't a subject up for discussion, in more ways than one. A married couple will eventually produce children. That's a duty they owe to both of their families. However, a wizard shouldn't pressure a witch into that before she's ready, and vice versa. That's something they owe to one another."

"That sounds rather complicated," said Nadia. "Are you sure that they never…you know, talk to each other about the subject?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "Perhaps some do. It's not mentioned in anything I've read, but it's such a private matter to begin with that I doubt people would write that down. That being said, I think that if you're truly worried about what Theo wants in that regard, then you had best bring up the subject yourself."

Her guest turned a bright, bright pink. "Oh no! I could never—" Her blush deepened and she shook her head from side to side, unable to complete her sentence.

"That's an answer in and of itself, I believe," said Hermione as kindly as she could. She didn't want to pressure the other witch into making a decision, but she did have her own opinion on the topic. Nadia was too young, and her marriage was too new. If it weren't for the fact that the Ravenclaw was worried for her husband's life, Hermione seriously doubted that the notion would have even crossed Nadia's mind.

"It is, isn't it?" Nadia wrung her hands. "But somehow I feel as though I'm letting him down again!"

Hermione arched an eyebrow. "Oh? What do you mean by again?"

"It's just a feeling I get at times, that's all. That he should be with someone more practical and sensible than me," said Nadia.

"Well I think it's clear that he loves you very much," said Hermione, "so you shouldn't second guess him that way." It was true that the younger witch didn't fit the popular mold of what a Ravenclaw should be; she was emotional and somewhat flighty. However, the girl was genuinely kind and caring, and she didn't have a malicious bone in her body. Hermione could see how that could be attractive to someone like Theo Nott, who had been raised by a strict, elderly father. Nadia and her mannerisms must have been a breath of fresh air to him. She didn't know Theo all that well, but whatever ideal Nadia represented to him was one whose lure he could not ignore.

_That's the same for me and Draco too, I think. I don't know exactly what he thinks of me, but marriage to me means a return to influence and power to him. That's not something he could turn down. It's funny though, to think how he and his old friend want such different things. I'm positive that Theo didn't marry Nadia in order to improve his standing in society. Whereas for Draco...it was his lust for power that allowed me to trap him. Although I guess you could say that Draco and I want the same thing, if not for the same purpose._

She couldn't help but continue thinking of how her relationship with Draco was so different from that of the Notts. The Notts had married for love. Any improvement in their status was merely a side benefit. As for herself—and for Draco—the reason why they got engaged was to better their position in the Wizarding World. To her mind, falling in love with Draco was at best a side benefit and at worst, a major obstacle that she would have to overcome. It felt a bit odd and cold to admit that to herself, but it was the truth. But that didn't mean she couldn't be gentle and compassionate, and she thought now was a fine time to be both.

"You should trust your husband," she told the younger witch again. "He loves you, and I am certain he wouldn't do anything to hurt you, which includes having something happen to him."

"I do," insisted Nadia. "I just worry."

"I know, and that can be the hardest thing. But you can't cling to him, morning and night, just because you're scared of what might happen to him. And you shouldn't rush into any decisions when it comes to children. You're both still young as is your relationship. You'll know when you're ready for that next step. For one thing, you won't have to come to me for advice," Hermione pointed out.

"But what if—"

Hermione wasn't going to let the other witch finish that question. "No good will come out of always wondering what if the worst happens. If it happens, then you'll deal with it then. You'll have plenty of friends to help you out as well. You shouldn't let your worries rule your life. Because then you'll never enjoy it."

"You're right of course." Nadia smiled weakly. "But then that's what you're known for. I know that worrying all the time won't help anything but—"

"Stopping is easier said than done."

"Exactly." Nadia shot her a pleading look, and that was when Hermione figured out what the other witch was really asking for.

"I see." She drummed her fingers against the sofa's armrest. "It isn't much but I can ask Draco to have a word with Theo about being more careful. Would that help?"

The change in her friend was immediate. Nadia leaned forward, clasping her hands in front of her, her eyes full of hope. "Would you?" she asked breathlessly. "I hate to impose but…I don't know how to get through to Theo. And it makes me feel so—"

"I know, I know," Hermione interjected quickly. She didn't want to listen to Nadia babble on again about how inadequate she felt. She was worried about the younger witch for she seemed to be on edge a lot of the time. She resolved to keep an eye on the Ravenclaw. Draco was great friends with Theo, and so it was likely that she would be seeing plenty of both of the Notts. That would make it easy for her to keep watch. She was fond of the other witch, and she wanted to help in any way she can. For now she would reassure Nadia that she would see about getting Draco to intervene with his friend.

"Very well. I'll ask him the next time I see him," she told the other witch. "Hopefully that will do some good."

"Oh, I am certain it will." With that, the conversation turned to lighter subjects.

It was very late when Draco finally arrived back home. He grimaced as he strode down the halls, knowing that he had missed dinner by several hours. He silently cursed Hufflepuffs who were overly fond of their own voices. He would have been able to complete the deal in half the time if Macmillan hadn't babbled on incessantly.

But at least the deal was more or less done. After finally escaping from the Hufflepuffs, Draco had dropped by his solicitor's house before returning home. Over a glass of brandy, he had communicated just how quickly he wanted everything done. Fortunately his solicitor, Amarant, was no fool and would probably wind up greasing the wheels to ensure that transaction was completed in the expedited timeframe that Draco had laid out.

The dining room had long been empty when Draco popped his head in to check. That meant his parents were relaxing elsewhere. He barked a short command, and one of the manor's House-elves appeared.

"My parents?" he asked.

"They is already retired for the evening," the creature replied in a wavering voice.

"I see." Draco saw no point in informing his parents that he was home. They would have already left orders to be notified of his arrival if they were worried about him. Obviously they weren't expecting to see him. He had a brief, internal debate over whether he wanted to eat in the kitchen or in his room. "I'll take dinner in my room then," he stated. He walked off, not bothering to acknowledge the elf any further. He knew that the manor's House-elves were nothing if not efficient, and there would be a selection of foodstuffs awaiting him when he arrived

Draco settled into a stroll as he headed towards his room, with candles flickering to life as he approached them only to sputter out after he passed them by. Idly he wondered how his parents had done in completing the task he had set before them. He chuckled softly, amused how their situations were now reversed. It wasn't that long ago when they were the ones giving commands while he leapt to do their bidding. He wasn't quite at the point where he ordered his parents around—and frankly, Draco didn't ever really want to do that—but it was funny how they were now working for him in a way.

Reaching his room, he opened the door and stepped in. A delicious aroma assailed his nose. He took a deep breath, the better to appreciate it. He glided across the room and stopped by the table that had been set up just for him. The kitchen elves had worked their magic again. They had prepared all his favorites. It was times like these when he couldn't imagine how anyone could survive without at least one House-elf to watch over them. He made a mental note to ask his mother for some House-elves for his new residence.

A_lthough Hermione might have something to say about that_, he thought to himself._ I wonder if she's still serious about that silly notion about freeing all House-elves._

Draco looked longingly at the food. However he felt grimy from the day so he walked past it and into his bathroom. As he walked in, the bath filled up with hot water, thanks to the elves who were still watching over him. He stripped off his clothes, tossed them into a small pile, and then stepped in. Draco sat down. The warm water around him seeped into his bones and he sighed happily. He leaned his head back against the wall. It would be so easy for him to fall asleep—or it would be if he wasn't preoccupied with Hermione's response to having House-elves.

He winced. Imagining her reaction to finding House-elves in their new house was enough to make him queasy. _If it were any witch aside from Hermione it would be safe to assume that she had moved on to bigger plans. But knowing her...well something tells me that she won't be too amenable to having House-elves serve us._

Draco's first instinct was not to mention anything about the elves to her. However that was an idea that would be doomed to failure should he act on it. Hermione Granger wasn't the sort of witch to not think of the possibility of him bringing over some elves to work in their new home. In fact, if he pegged her right, she would already have some sort of contingency plan to deal with the situation if it arose.

_It isn't anything worth arguing over,_ he decided. _Blast it all! If she wants to pay them...well, I should put up a fight in principle and also to see what I can get out of her. But in the end, it's simply not worth it. I can easily afford to pay our House-elves. The thing I don't want to deal with is their reaction to the whole idea._ He grimaced. The elves would protest bitterly about getting wages. They would cry incessantly about how they didn't know what they did wrong and how all they wanted to make whatever amends necessary to avoid the horrors of getting paid. Just thinking of their reaction was giving him a headache. That was the real problem he had with the idea of paying them for their labor.

That wasn't a compelling enough argument, however, to convince Hermione to give up on the idea. She would nag him to either pay the elves or to not have them at all, and the second option wasn't one he was willing to consider. He knew that the both of them would be too busy to really be able to take care of everything at home. He also didn't like the idea of hiring wizards and witches to act as servants. House-elves were renowned for their loyalty to their families; servants not so much. He pondered just how important the issue was to Hermione. Considering how she had started that ridiculous organization during their school years, there was a chance that if he didn't accede to her demands in that realm, then she wouldn't be fully invested in their marriage as a partnership.

But there was a way for him to win the argument. He could press her on the issue and see what sort of compromises she was willing to make for it. In the end, he would be willing to settle on paying the elves so long as she agreed to be the one to convince the elves to accept wages.

He grinned. That was an excellent solution. So long as he insisted on that condition, he would come out a winner no matter what. Even if he didn't get anything else out of it, the fact that he was willing to do so would be more proof to her that he had changed since they were children. It would make it easier for him to convince her that she should place her trust in him and include him on all the plans she had stored away in her lovely little head.

Happy with the conclusion he had reached, he quickly finished with his bath so he could return to his room and the dinner waiting for him. He cast a drying spell as he stepped out of the tub, not wanting to bother with a towel. He strode through the bathroom and into his room. His pyjamas were laid out on his bed. Draco tilted his head, debating whether or not it would be better to change into a fresh set of robes. He shrugged his shoulders. It wasn't as though he was planning to go out again tonight. He went over to his bed and then changed into his pyjamas. That done, he returned to sit at the small table beside his bed.

Draco picked up his fork. He took a heaping bite and chewed while his mind wandered. There were still too many things for him to take care of before he finally confronted Hermione.

Just then a flash of inspiration struck.

He swallowed his last bite slowly as he digested his sudden epiphany. He set his fork down and got up from his seat. He headed straight to the study adjoining his bedroom, determined to somehow put his notion into action. That old fool Merlose had moved on from just being a thorn in Hermione's side to become a nuisance threatening not only her influence, but Draco's own. However, Merlose didn't know just how irritated Draco was with him at the moment. Draco knew he had to act fast in order to take advantage of the other wizard's ignorance.

He sat down at his desk. Opening a drawer, he pulled out a sheet of parchment along with his favorite quill. He absently tapped the quill against his chin as he considered what to write down in his note to the old wizard. His last confrontation with Merlose was still fresh in his mind. He had no doubt that the other wizard remembered it as well, and therefore whatever he put in his note had to be in line with that. That meant a bit of subterfuge was called for but he had to be careful. Merlose was crafty and his suspicions would be aroused if Draco was reckless.

He thought about it for several minutes more before finally setting down words to parchment. With broad strokes, he sketched out his letter. It was brief but to the point. He started off by noting that information he had received about recent events made him regret the way he had dismissed the old man before. The letter went on to make some mention of what a precarious position Draco believed himself to be in and how he wished that he had taken Merlose's earlier offer of help. He closed by writing that he regretted that he couldn't visit Merlose in person at the Ministry because of the current circumstances.

Draco read over the letter and smirked. It was about as perfect as it could be. The tone was just right. He didn't grovel for Merlose's forgiveness but at the same time he implied that he had been wrong to reject the old man's accusations out of hand. Draco was willing to bet that the letter would be able to draw Merlose out of hiding to visit him at either his work or at the manor once more.

And when that happened, he would be prepared for the sly old wizard. The last time Draco had let Merlose leave without ever saying what he truly had against Hermione. He wouldn't make the same mistake again. Draco would play the suspicious fiancé and bait Merlose into revealing his secrets. When that happened, he would make his move and take care of the old man once and for all. After that it would be easy work to repair whatever damage had been done to his witch's reputation, especially as his parents were already helping out with that.

Draco took out an envelope. Folding the letter, he placed it inside and sealed the envelope before addressing the front. He rose from his seat. He strode back to his bedroom where his dinner was waiting. He ignored it, however, in favor of calling for a House-elf to mail the letter. Once an elf appeared, Draco instructed it to have his letter sent via his personal owl to Merlose's home. Only when that was done did he return to his meal, which was still warm due to the charms the kitchen elves had placed upon it.

All in all, it had been a _very _productive day.

"You looked like you thoroughly enjoyed yourself today, darling."

Narcissa stifled a sigh and set down her brush. She turned around to face the annoying git she had the misfortune to be married to. Lucius could be very charming when he set his mind to it, but it was a rare occasion when he would use that charm on her. Usually he preferred to irritate her for he claimed that made her look adorable.

She wrinkled her nose. He was very lucky that she loved him so otherwise she would have changed him into a toad long ago.

"You know perfectly well how I feel about being surrounded by a gaggle of giggling geese," she told him in a crisp tone. "Now do be a dear and try not to make my headache any worse."

He arched an elegant eyebrow at her, and she couldn't help but admire his poise. It was one of the things that had drawn her to him. "That bad?" he asked mildly.

"You cannot imagine. One of these days I'll have to have you dress up as a witch so you can see how awfully silly witches can be when there aren't any wizards around."

"It is my experience that witches can be terribly silly even with wizards present," he noted.

She shot him a look of exasperation. It was so like Lucius to be difficult when he knew that she had had a tiring day. He practically lived to be impossible. "If you like, I've a fair hand at potions. I can whip up a batch of Polyjuice, and you can pretend to be me next time."

A look of childish glee crossed his face, and she immediately regretted making that offer. "Really? Just think of how much trouble I could get you in!"

"Just think of how much trouble you would be in then," she answered sharply. "But then I doubt that would stop you. The prospect of drawing our entire family into humiliation and disgrace has never stopped you before." His face fell as he all too easily understood what she was referring to. Part of her felt guilty for doing so. She had forgiven her husband for his past mistakes, and yet she was throwing them in his face again. However, another part of her felt that it was good to remind him once in a while that he wasn't infallible. He, like all men, had a reckless side to him, and his actions had cost their family dearly.

But she didn't want to linger over the past for too long. She preferred to move on and prepare for the future. So she changed the subject. She asked him, "Was your day productive at least?"

"That depends on your definition of productive," he replied. The scowl on his face told her that his mood was still dark. "But if you're asking in terms of our son's request then I guess you could say my day was of some small value."

"Oh?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I confirmed my suspicions. My closest associates have heard of the wild tales Merlose has been weaving and have judged them to be inaccurate at best, wholly concocted at worst. For now, they will just observe and wait to see if an advantage might somehow be had."

"I see. I am not surprised. That is more or less what I found as well." She frowned. "Except for a couple silly bints who went on and on about how concerned they are for poor Draco's safety."

"More proof that your friends are sillier than mine," he pointed out.

"Let us not start on that again," she warned him. He started to open his mouth, then closed it. Narcissa smiled to herself. She was still able to get her husband to do what she said when she really wanted him to.

Hermione opened her oven and pulled the chicken out. She reached for the thermometer lying on the counter. She slowly sunk it in the deepest part of the chicken, taking care that it didn't strike bone. She waited a minute and then checked the temperature. It was just right. She slid the chicken back into the oven so it could finish cooking.

That done she went back to her fridge. She pulled out all the ingredients she had bought earlier today at the market for a fresh salad and got to work. There was something comforting when it came to cooking the Muggle way. She much preferred it to just waving a wand and having food appear. Though it took more time, it was time she could spend in quiet contemplation. Her problems seemed farther away when she was busy in the kitchen, and that in itself made it easier for her to view them with an objective eye. The serenity that imbued her whenever she was cooking was reward enough for all the work she put in.

That was just as well. Hermione had no doubts that the meal would fail to impress Draco. She was a good cook and she knew that everything would be delicious, but her dinner couldn't compare to what the Malfoy's horde of House-elves could whip up. He might say the right things and act amazed that she was able to prepare so much food without the use of magic, but she knew that he was likely to think it a waste of time. If he gave any thought to as why she chose to use her time that way, he would probably chalk it up to her feeling nostalgic.

Which was true enough in its own way. Hermione remembered with fondness the summer days she spent with her mother, the two of them working together to prepare dinner. Her father too was no stranger to the kitchen, although his favorite thing to do was to bake. She smiled as she recalled how he would showoff just about every year some new decorating trick he had pick up from somewhere when her mother's birthday rolled around again. She supposed such memories might be a part of why she always felt so calm and cozy when cooking the Muggle way.

She finished chopping the vegetables. She went back to her fridge and removed the platter she had chilled for the salad. She spent the next several minutes laying out the salad, neatly arranging all of its components. She picked up the platter when she had finished and carried it over to the table, where she set it down. She extracted her wand and placed a stasis charm on it, to make sure that nothing would wilt until it was time to eat. Then it was back to the kitchen for her to check on the potatoes that were boiling in a pot.

She poked at the potatoes with a fork. Satisfied that they were fully cooked, she turned off the stove and looked at the clock. She decided taking a shortcut was in order otherwise everything might not be done in time. After she extracted the potatoes from the water, she reached for her wand. Though she had intended to do everything by hand, it had taken longer than expected for the potatoes to be cooked. One charm later and the potatoes were cool enough to peel without burning her fingers.

Hermione dumped each potato into a large bowl as she finished peeling it. After they were all peeled, she returned to the fridge to pull out the milk and butter. She started to mash the potatoes, adding a fair amount of milk and a ghastly amount of butter in the process. That was the bad part to cooking the Muggle way. Sometimes she lost her appetite for a particular dish after she had seen everything that she had put it in. Still she had never been the type to skimp on the proper ingredients, either in the kitchen or the Potions laboratory, and she wasn't about to start now. She finished with the potatoes, and that dish joined the salad on the table, with its own stasis charm in place.

Hermione pursed her lips together. The chicken wasn't done yet, which meant she had a tiny amount of time to spare. She walked out and surveyed the dinner table. Mentally she added the chicken and the dinner rolls to the table. She debated whether or not she should add some sort of steamed vegetable to balance everything out. She shook her head and decided against the idea. She had already rushed the potatoes because she didn't have enough time, and so it wouldn't be prudent to start another dish. Instead she returned to the kitchen so she could start washing some of the dirty dishes while waiting for the chicken to finish roasting. That way there would be less for her to clean up once the night was over.

Up to her elbow in soapy water, her mind wandered as she scrubbed away. When she had originally invited Draco over for dinner, it was because she was mindful of the fact that they rarely spent any time truly alone. They always seemed to be in public together, whether they were at a crowded restaurant, a Quidditch game, or at a ball in his parents' manor. That made it harder for her to get to know the real him. Hermione was well aware that Draco had many expectations still resting on his shoulders and that affected how he acted when they were being observed. The silly girlish part of her was worried that he wouldn't be quite so affectionate when it was just the two of them. The more calculating side to her wanted to see just how enamored he was of her, if at all.

_I think he is though. I doubt he'd admit it, but I do believe he is at the very least fond of me. I suppose that's more of a gut feeling than anything else...I can explain away his behavior for one reason or another but when I look at all of it...I think he has to be falling for me. If not, then he's the coldest man I know. And from what I remember of him at Hogwarts...he's not that cold. He might want people to think he's a heartless Slytherin, but he's not really. He adores his family, and he cares about his friends. And I think he feels something for me._

Hermione allowed herself a small sigh. She could debate the issue for ages. Certainly she had done her best to encourage his affections. She would continue to do the same tonight. She wanted Draco to love her. She wanted him to look at her with the same longing she felt for him. If she had to suffer through the pains of what might be love, then she wanted him to suffer right there with her. _Though that does sound awfully silly,_ she conceded.

She set the pot she had been washing in the rack to dry and moved on to the next dish, resolving to move on to another topic as she did so. There would be plenty of time for her to worry about Draco later tonight. Hermione knew that she would spend a good portion of the night analyzing his actions and so it was better for her to think on other things right now. _Like the problem of Givens. It seems impossible, but no one has witnessed anything. I wonder if he's had any help._

The people most likely to help the twisted Auror were those who had also lost someone in the war to the Death Eaters. That was another thing wrong with the Wizarding World. Its concept of mental health care was lacking to say the least. No one really focused on the issue of the mental scars that the war had inflicted. Wizards and witches were left on their own to heal themselves, which could be an impossible thing. She briefly wondered what sort of wounds the Malfoys had from the war. There had to be some, seeing how they were almost prisoners in their own home towards the end. She filed that idea away in her mind to be looked into later as something that might give her more insight into Draco's mind.

Another wizard who had been damaged by the war was Dennis Creevey. Hermione had no doubt that he was partially unhinged because of his older brother's fate. Colin's death had to be hard on him, particularly seeing how Colin had always watched out for his younger sibling. She was willing to be that was what drove him to warn Muggle-borns away from Hogwarts. Hermione wanted to reach out to poor Dennis, but she hadn't had the time. She frowned. Of course, he was probably on edge seeing how she had shut down his website. He had certainly been jumpy the last time she had run in to him in Diagon Alley.

Hermione stopped. She reached over and turned off the water. She took a deep breath and ran through the memory of when she had last seen Dennis Creevey. She had been in Diagon Alley with Draco at her side. He had literally ran into her, right before she and Draco had caught sight of the crowd gathered around the Leaky Cauldron where Higgs had been found. He had been in a rush, and if she remembered everything right, Dennis had been running away from the vicinity of the murder scene.

She exhaled deeply. Hermione didn't like where her mind was leading her. She didn't want to believe that Dennis had anything to do with Givens and all those deaths. He had been such a sweet boy at Hogwarts, worshipping Harry as a personal hero. But looking back on the events of that day, it seemed entirely possible that Dennis Creevey had been involved with Givens somehow. Hermione hoped that would prove not to be the case, but she would find out. She had so few leads on the case that she would have to follow up and see what if anything Dennis knew about Higgs' murder. Hopefully her worst fears wouldn't be realized. But if they did turn out to be true, she would still do what needed to be done, regardless of the consequences.

There was nothing she could do about that at the moment and so she focused once more on making sure everything was perfect for dinner. She turned back to the oven. She had the chicken along with the gravy out on the table a mere second before Draco's knock sounded on her door.

Immediately she went to the front door. Hermione had been intending to allow Draco Apparition rights to her flat, ever since she was allowed the same for Malfoy Manor. She realized what the significance of that gesture would be. But with everything that had happened, she had been unable to find the time to modify the wards. Frankly it now seemed like a waste of time seeing how she would be moving in less than a month to whatever residence Draco picked out for the two of them. She would simply apologize for his inconvenience; not only did he have to find his way from the nearest Apparition point, he also had to glamour himself so his robes would go unnoticed by all the Muggles. With that thought firmly in place, she opened the door.

Her jaw promptly dropped.

"What are you wearing?" she asked before she could regain her composure. She had been expecting Draco to show up in robes. He had always done so before, even when he had met her parents that one time.

His brow furrowed. "Is there something wrong in what I chose?" He pushed his way past her, leaving her to trail behind him and admire just how snugly he fit into the pair of dark trousers he was wearing. She gulped and looked away. It wouldn't do to stare.

Somehow Draco found his way to the mirror hanging in the hallway between her bedroom and the living room. It was uncanny the way he had made a beeline towards it. Hermione watched as he examined himself in the mirror. "Well?" he asked.

She realized that he was expecting a response from the mirror. "It isn't magical," she told him. "Being insulted by an inanimate object was never the way I wanted to start the day."

He huffed and whirled around. "All right. Then you tell me. What's wrong with this?" He gestured with one hand to himself, and Hermione couldn't help but notice how his black dress shirt was perfectly tailored. "I thought that I had chosen something appropriate for a Muggle neighborhood, but obviously I missed something. Your reaction told me that much. So how much of a fool have I made of myself?"

She swallowed nervously. "Nothing's wrong. I was just expecting you to be wearing robes, that's all."

He arched an eyebrow. "That's not very practical for a Muggle neighborhood, as you should know, Hermione."

"Yes, but I know that you know several types of glamours that would do the trick," she replied.

He shrugged his shoulders. "That I do. But I thought since I had to traipse my way by your Muggle neighbors that I might as well get some practice in selecting Muggle clothing. You are going to have to introduce me to the rest of your family one day, and I imagine they don't know you're a witch."

"No, they don't." His phrasing reminded her of her failure to modify her wards. "And I'm sorry about the wards. I keep meaning to—"

He smiled benignly at her. "Don't bother," he said. "It hardly seems worth the effort since you'll be moving shortly anyway to our new home."

"Oh? Have you picked one out then?"

He gasped, somehow managing to look affronted while maintaining an elegant air about him. "Hermione! There's less than a month until the wedding. Of course I've already found a place for us."

Hermione twitched her nose, unaffected by his dramatics. "So where is it?" was her follow-up question.

His only reply was a smirk.

She sighed. "You're not going to tell me." It was more of a statement than a question.

"Of course not, darling. I want it to be a surprise."

"And what if I don't like it?"

"Then we can always move into the manor."

She shuddered violently at that idea. "Thank you, but no," she muttered. Hermione frowned at Draco, who looked all too pleased with himself. "And I really would like to know where this house you picked is. After all, if we're going to both live there, shouldn't I have some say in it?"

He narrowed his eyes at her, until they were just points of silver. "And here I thought we had agreed that task would be left solely to my discretion."

Hermione was struck by how much he resembled the disgruntled wizard who had agreed to move out of his parents' home so many weeks ago. That indeed had been the agreement they had struck, and she had thought it worth it. She still thought that it was worth it for living in the same house as Narcissa Malfoy would be hell, regardless of how large Malfoy Manor was. She had thought that Draco had changed since then and would be more amenable to her input. She didn't want to admit it, but it was looking as though she had been mistaken.

Suddenly his demeanor changed completely. His shoulders slouched down, and he smiled sadly at her. "Don't you trust me?" he asked plaintively. "I have good taste. I wouldn't pick out anything awful. You should know that. I thought you knew that," he ended forlornly.

That was when Hermione _knew_ he was up to something. Clearly Draco had plans of his own. What those plans consisted of she didn't know. She held back a groan, irritated at the mere thought of something else for her to research. She didn't have _time _for this. It was exhausting to have so much to do all by herself.

Hermione decided to play along with Draco for now while keeping her eyes open. She was positive that the war had changed him. He wasn't the scared little boy who hated her for no reason. She didn't want to assume that his plans had anything to do with advancing the cause of pure-blood supremacy, not when it was entirely possible—and indeed even likely—that he was more concerned with cleaning up the Malfoy family name.

"I do trust you," she insisted, "I just would like to see the place before I actually move in. Natural curiosity and all that."

"I see. Let me finish the transaction first, love. I am positive you'll love it, but I don't want to disappoint you in case something goes wrong. Once the house is officially in my name, I'll invite you over," said Draco.

"All right. Now are you hungry?" At his eager nod, she led him into the dining room as she mentally prepared herself to observe him closely all evening.

**Author's note:** Here's the next chapter. I hope everyone enjoyed it. My apologies for the length. I tried cutting it down with some success. I have a long way to go before this fic is over, and yet I still want to finish this one up in 30 chapters. I think the way to do that is make the fic 30 chapters, plus the prologue and the epilogue. That will give me a little bit more breathing room. Anyway, I would love to hear what you thought of this.

Finally, my thanks to everyone who was so kind to review the last chapter: nonentity, RaineyDays, Chanteur d'ombre, mkhtl, DodgerMcClure, misssweetsweet, Ceralyn, ebbe04, HazelFromBehind, WinterhartZahneelCalina, mlui, gitgit, twin-v. Lea1286, box, celticscorpion, and starrlightt.


	28. Silence and Motion

**Ambition's End: Silence and Motion**

**Disclaimer:** None of these characters are mine as they all belong to JKR.

****

Hermione breezed into Ginny's shop. She was ostensibly there to check on the progress of the robes for the witches of the wedding party. Although Katie had told her that she didn't have to worry about a thing, she still preferred to check in on some things herself. It wasn't as though Hermione doubted her friend. It was just that she needed to maintain a certain level of control over things, especially when it came to her wedding. Her wedding was, after all, an integral part of her ultimate plan.

However, there was another reason for her to drop by Ginny's shop and that was to ask about Dennis Creevey. Out of everyone she knew, Ginny was the closest to the Creevey brothers.

Hermione walked into the small shop and looked around. She didn't see anyone minding the counter. She looked towards the back room, but the door was partially shut. So she called out, "Hello? Is anyone here?"

She was immediately gratified by the sound of someone tumbling down the stairs. "Oh!" said Ginny when she caught sight of Hermione waiting in the front of the store. "Hermione, what a pleasant surprise! I wasn't expecting to see you here today."

"Do I need an appointment now just to drop by?" Hermione asked wryly.

"You? Never. But as for the rest of my clients—"

"I take it business is picking up then?"

"Yes, thank you very much. You wouldn't believe how many people have dropped by ever since the _Prophet_ reported I'll be responsible for your wedding robes. The difference is like night and day."

"That's good," said Hermione. She was happy for the other witch. While Ginny much like her mother could be an annoying, interfering twit, Hermione appreciated how Ginny wanted to make it on her own without the help of the wizards in her life. In fact, Hermione had to admire Ginny for it, especially since Molly Weasley had never bother to step foot outside the Burrow. She sometimes wondered what the older witch thought about her daughter trying to make it in the world. It wouldn't surprise her to learn that Molly had counseled Ginny to concentrate on making a home for Harry instead of starting her own business. However there was no polite way to ask, and so Hermione's suspicions would have to remain just that.

"So not that I mind you visiting but is there any particular reason that you're here?" Ginny looked hopefully at Hermione. "Have you started thinking about what you're going to wear for the wedding night? And maybe even the honeymoon?"

Hermione blinked. "No actually," she admitted. It hadn't even occurred to her to think about what they would be doing after the wedding. She hadn't planned anything for the honeymoon; she wondered if Draco had. She supposed she would have to ask him the next time she saw him. It wouldn't do for them to have different plans, not if they were supposed to be happily married and all.

Ginny pulled a face, wrinkling her nose something awful at Hermione's admission. "Really? You haven't?"

"No, I've not." Hermione smiled wanly. "I've been a bit busy planning for the wedding and everything."

"Oh. I guess you have." The other witch shrugged her shoulders. "Oh well. I suppose I might get you something for your hen night then."

Hermione snapped to attention. "What hen night?"

The blood drained from Ginny's face, and she became as pale as a sheet. "Merlin. Did I just say that out loud?" Hermione nodded her head. Ginny gulped nervously, and her hands clenched into fists. "Well that would be the hen night that Katie and I have been planning to throw you for some time now," she explained weakly.

"Oh."

"Damn it! I wasn't supposed to tell." Ginny leaped forward and clung to Hermione's arm. "Please, please don't tell Katie. She'll be so upset at me for spilling the beans like that. It was supposed to be a surprise, you see."

"I gathered that," said Hermione. She remembered talking with Katie about the subject. The two of them had decided to forgo having one because there had been so many other things to plan for the wedding. Evidently her friend had decided to branch out on her own in that regards. But it wasn't as though she could be upset at either Katie or Ginny for wanting to throw a party for her. She did appreciate it, although the more she thought about it, the more she worried that it might not be in good taste.

She pursed her lips together as she thought of one of the more wild parties that had been thrown for one of her cousins on her father's side. "It's not going to be…." She trailed off, not knowing how to put her question into words.

Unfortunately Ginny was particularly dense that day. "It's not going to be what?" she asked blankly.

"You know." Hermione made a vague gesture with her hands.

"No, really I don't. I have no clue what you're talking about." Ginny shot her a puzzled look.

Hermione took a deep breath. "Well…I don't mean to be a prude but I'd rather there not be any—"

That was when Ginny finally cottoned on. She blushed a bright red that rivaled her hair. "No, no," she said, shaking her head from side to side. "Nothing like that." Ginny recovered enough to step back and release Hermione's arm. She threw Hermione a saucy wink. "Now when you're planning my hen night, feel free to go wild when it comes to choosing the entertainment. But not for you, and not because either of us think you're a prude."

"Is that so?" Hermione asked. She was taken aback at Ginny's assertion for she knew that she had a reputation for being a goody-two shoes. In fact, she encouraged it. The more people thought she was innocent and naïve, the better. That meant they were less likely to expect her to be as sly and cunning as she actually was, that there was little chance anyone would ever stumble over the full extent of her plans.

"All right. I suppose you are a prude. But even you can kick back and have fun. But what with the wedding being the week after…we don't want any bad press leaking out about anything that happened that night. The Malfoys are rather traditional, and it would be the wrong way to start things off with your new in-laws. So you'll just have to deal with a regular, old party, rather than anything really exciting," explained Ginny. "In fact, it might wind up being more of a bridal shower. Not unless your mum decides to host one for you. Katie says she's asked your mother about that, but she hasn't really answered."

Hermione sighed. She had seen her parents several times since she had introduced Draco to them. While they hadn't said anything to discourage her from her plans, their disapproval was so strong that it hung in the air. They didn't want her to get married. They thought that she was too young and that she should focus on her career rather than on a man. She had tried to explain to them that her marriage would allow her to advance her career because of the influence the Malfoy name still wielded, despite its being tarnished in recent years. However that had failed to convince them. As much as she hated to admit it, her parents' approval was a lost cause.

"I don't think she will," said Hermione. "But even so, it's not like I need a bridal shower."

"No, you don't at that. You are marrying into one of the richest families in the Wizarding World," Ginny said cheekily. "In fact, rumor has it that you've already access to one of their many vaults."

Hermione stiffened. "Where did you hear that?" She hadn't heard that rumor making the rounds, and she didn't like the idea that people were talking about her without her knowing about it.

"From the cheque you handed me." Ginny lightly punched her in the arm. "Don't think I didn't notice that it was drawn from a Malfoy vault."

"You haven't—"

"Of course not! I wouldn't go divulging something like that," said Ginny. "I know how to keep a secret!"

Hermione simply looked at her.

Ginny flushed and lowered her eyes. "All right, fine. I did make a mistake about telling you about your hen night. But still, that's something small, something you would have found out about anyway. I wouldn't go blabbing my mouth about you having access to Malfoy's vaults."

Hermione decided to let that pass as she thought that Ginny hadn't mentioned it to anyone. She hadn't heard anything about that piece of information going around, and more tellingly, she hadn't been asked by anyone for money. Besides in the end it wasn't as though it really mattered anyway. Anyone with a modicum of common sense could figure out she had access to Draco's galleons simply by the way she had been spending on her wedding. Certainly Hermione didn't have enough galleons in her own personal vault to cover all the deposits, much less pay everything in full up front.

"I know you wouldn't," Hermione reassured the younger witch. "I just thought I owed you for giving me a hard time earlier. I can give as good as I get, you know."

"Trust me, I know," said Ginny. Hermione looked askance at her. "I've the example of my brother you know. Maybe he hasn't figured out who set those birds on him but I'm not so slow."

"Few people are as slow as your brother can be," said Hermione.

"True that. Not that I'm complaining. That made him more of a target than me for the twins' pranks." Ginny's faced darkened momentarily, and Hermione knew that she was thinking of the older brother that she no longer had. There were some wounds time could not heal, and that was one of them.

But the moment passed, and Ginny regained her sunny personality. "But back to our original subject, I know that in theory you don't need any presents. But if you're not going to get anything for yourself for your wedding night and beyond, then we'll just have to fix that." A wicked grin appeared on the redhead's face. "Thank goodness for your coloring. You'll look splendid decked out in scraps of scarlet and gold."

Now it was Hermione's turn to blush. Ginny squealed as the brunette's cheeks turned red. "Oh my! A blushing bride! Who would've thought you would turn out to be the perfect image of a pure-blood bride?"

"Except for the fact that I'm a Muggle-born witch," Hermione said. She really hadn't thought of the wedding night, much less what to wear to it. It wasn't as though she was inexperienced. She knew what to expect. But it made her blush to talk about so private a subject. She supposed that wasn't a bad thing—certainly it would only reinforce her reputation in the Wizarding World.

"Well of course except for that," said Ginny. "I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't tease you so. It's just that I didn't expect for you to be so flustered about the subject." She looked critically over at Hermione. "Don't tell me that you and Malfoy haven't…."

"That's private," Hermione snapped. Ginny nodded and didn't press the subject, as though she realized that she was coming dangerously close to crossing the line. Hermione took several deep breaths to calm herself down. She hadn't given much thought to the idea of intimate relations with Draco. Indeed she had thought more about when it would be best to have children with him than the actual mechanics of having said children.

Hermione didn't think that there would be any problems in that department. She was certainly attracted enough to him, and he felt the same way, if his behavior the other night was anything to go by. Her heart started to beat faster as she remembered the time they spent on her sofa after dinner was finished. She had certainly had no trouble in giving herself over to his touch that evening. It would have been easy for either of them to take things a step further, but they hadn't. Hermione didn't mind that. She hadn't spoken with Draco about the subject but it was as though they had a silent agreement to take things slowly for now.

The wedding would undoubtedly change all that.

She shook her head to clear her mind of such thoughts. _That is what the honeymoon is for_, she reminded herself. _And you'd best find out soon if he's made any plans. Because you will need that bonding time with him, no matter what else is going on in the world._ Hermione resolved to ask Draco about that later in the evening. She returned her focus back to her original reason for visiting Ginny.

"I've realized that I've never mentioned why I came over here," said Hermione. "What with you distracting me with other subjects and all that."

"Sorry," said Ginny. She frowned. "Which I really mean seeing how I wasn't supposed to say what I did."

"Don't worry. I've forgotten all about it already so I'll be perfectly surprised when it's my actual hen night. But in any event, I was wondering how the robes for the wedding party are going."

"Oh!" Comprehension dawned in the other witch's eyes. "Yes, that is very much like you. Always wanting to check up on things. The robes are more or less done," said Ginny.

"What do you mean by more or less?"

"Meaning that they're done except sometimes I think about changing one of them," Ginny said. "That's the downside to finishing a project early. I can't help but think that I might be able to improve it, even though I'm already happy with my work. I start to wonder how it might look if I add…."

"Yes, I know what you mean," Hermione said. "That's actually happened to me before, believe it or not."

"Oh, I believe it. That's how your essays got so long, isn't it?" said Ginny with a friendly smile.

Hermione found herself grinning back. "You could say that. May I have a look?"

"Of course! Just let me lock the shop up first. I don't want anyone sneaking in and maybe getting a peek at my work. You do want it to remain a secret for your wedding day, don't you?" Hermione nodded her head, and Ginny walked over to the door. A wave of the younger witch's wand later, the door was locked. "Follow me," said Ginny, beckoning a hand to Hermione.

Ginny continued to speak as she led Hermione to the back room. "And I suppose I should apologize. They were finished a couple days ago. I was going to mention that to you and Katie so you could have a look and so I could get your opinion on some possible changes but…well things happened and I completely forgot."

"I can see how that could have happened," said Hermione. Ginny was fairly well-organized but she tended to lose track of things when she got busy. "You do have so many new customers and all," added Hermione.

"Yes. And I was worried about the news and everything. But still that's not a good excuse," said Ginny. She came to a stop in the front of a small collection of bare dress forms. "And here we are!"

"I don't see a thing," Hermione remarked dryly.

"That's because you're not supposed to, not until I remove the charm keeping them all hidden away." Ginny drew out her wand with a flourish. "You can't take too many precautions. This way even if someone managed to break through all my wards and protections…well, they'll never be able to find your robes."

Hermione nodded approvingly. She didn't think that such precautions were necessary, but her impending nuptials were beginning to get more press. There was a small chance that some aspiring reporter would take drastic measures to get illicit photographs of her wedding robes. She really didn't think it was likely to happen, but there was no harm in having an abundance of caution.

Ginny sketched out the release spell, revealing the robes that had been hidden from sight. Hermione gasped at the sight of them. She took a couple steps forward and reached out a hand to finger the soft, white satin of her wedding robes. The bodice was cut in such away to emphasize Hermione's curves. From afar the skirt appeared to be simple. However, if one took a closer look, one would see all the fine subtle detail present in the gown. All in all, it was a breathtaking and elegant design.

"So do you like it?" Ginny asked. She wrung her hands nervously. "If you like, I can add more—"

"No," said Hermione. "It's gorgeous as is. You don't have to add a thing."

Ginny heaved a huge sigh of relief. "You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that. I knew you liked the drawings but…I was afraid that perhaps I hadn't stayed true to them."

Hermione looked at the set of robes with a critical eye. True there were some differences from what she remembered of the drawings, but then she hadn't expected a completely faithful rendition. "No, no," said Hermione. "You definitely stayed true to the spirit of the sketches you showed us. And frankly, you can't ask for more than that because things have a way of evolving when you make them." She didn't see any reason to mention that part of her had been fearful that Ginny would add embellishment after embellishment on the robes. Thankfully the additions Ginny had made were tasteful, not tacky.

"That they do," said Ginny. She giggled excitedly. "It's excellent news that you like your wedding robes. Really I should have had you over here sooner."

Hermione shrugged in reply. She was the sort of person who wanted to know right away when a project was completed, but she couldn't complain about the situation for it gave her an excuse to visit Ginny. She turned to the bridesmaids' robes. One of the biggest problems they had face in selecting those robes was simply deciding on which color they were to be. Ginny was one of Hermione's bridesmaids, and her hair clashed with most of the colors Hermione had been drawn to. In the end, they had settled on a lovely emerald green, which went along with the orchid theme. That color also seemed fitting with the way it was associated with the groom's House at Hogwarts.

"They're perfect," Hermione said after her perusal. She turned to face the younger witch. "You don't need to change a thing."

The other witch hung her head. "Yes I know I don't _have_ to change a thing but I can't help but wonder if it would be better to—"

Hermione held up a hand to interrupt that thought. "Do you think it might be safer to keep the robes elsewhere if it's so tempting for you to keep changing them around?" she asked.

Ginny twitched her nose. "Don't worry. I can control myself. I was wondering however…your Muggle relatives are invited, aren't they?"

"Yes."

"So won't they thing it strange when they see all this fancy Wizarding wear?"

"That's where magic comes in handy," Hermione replied. "That's included in the whole package at Solaris. Katie and I even spent an entire day choosing what dresses we want everyone's robes to look like." Hermione shook her head at that memory. She hadn't realized how much more work she had made for herself just by deciding to invite all her Muggle relations. Still she wouldn't have it any other way. She didn't want to be the sort of witch who forgot where she came from.

"Really? I didn't know that. You should've invited me along."

"I wouldn't be so quick to say that. You would have enjoyed choosing the dresses, but there were a lot of other things to settle on as well. Sometimes I think we take for granted just how much magic inhabits our lives." Hermione paused. "And I think we also tend to ignore the advances of science," she added, reflecting on how she herself had been so ignorant about current Muggle technology until just recently.

"You know you almost sound like Dennis. Sometimes he starts ranting how magic and science are all really the same, and how anyone who thinks otherwise is an idiot. You do remember him, don't you? He was Colin's little brother."

Hermione leaped upon that opening. It was too good of a chance to pass up. "Yes, I do. He always followed Colin around everywhere." She assumed an expression of concern. "How is he doing, by the way? The last time I saw him…I don't know how to put this best but he looked rather _lost_."

"Ah yes." Ginny's brow furrowed as a troubled look settled on her face. "That's a good way to put it. He idolized Colin and all. He does seem to be somewhat lost without him."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Like me, he went back to Hogwarts after the war to finish his schooling. It sort of made me sad to see him there without Colin around. Reminds me of—" Ginny drew in a shuddering breath as she blinked back tears. Hermione reached out to squeeze the other witch's hand. She knew who Ginny was thinking of. She didn't say a thing for there was nothing to say that she hadn't said before. They remained in silence for several long minutes before Ginny recovered enough to speak again.

"But it made me sad to see Dennis and not Colin. Because I came to expect the two of them to be together."

"I can't imagine how hard it must have been for him to go back there," said Hermione. "I'm surprised that his parents let him."

"I'm surprised that he wanted to go back. He was always so angry…made me wonder why he bothered coming back to Hogwarts if he hated the Wizarding World so."

"Did anyone ever speak to him about—" Hermione waved her hand around vaguely.

"About? Oh! You mean about Colin. No, not that I know of," said Ginny. "I wanted to but…it's silly but even though I knew better than anyone else what he was going through…I didn't know what to say. There wasn't anything I could say, really. Words can't make things better."

"I take it there were no counseling offered to the students," Hermione said grimly. She knew the answer to that. There had never been any sort of grief counseling offered to students despite the horrific events of their Hogwarts years. Certainly there were plenty of students who could have used such help.

"Counseling?" Ginny echoed. "What ever do you mean by that?"

"Never mind," said Hermione. She didn't feel like explaining what she meant when it would only lead to more questions from the other witch, the answers to which were very depressing. It was too easy to fall in to the trap of wondering how things would be if only things had been different. "So I take it you haven't seen him in awhile?"

"Here and there. He tends to pop up in Diagon Alley on occasion. I think he might work for the _Prophet_ as a junior photographer," replied Ginny. "Why do you ask?"

Hermione smiled softly and decided to offer a part of the truth as her response. "Sometimes I feel responsible for him and the younger Muggle-borns, that all. That I should have been there to help out more that first year after the war. But I was so busy…." She left that sentence unfinished. She had been very busy that year between landing her position in the Department of Mysteries while arranging for her marriage to Malfoy. In retrospect, it might have been wise to have moved more slowly so she could have spent more time on figuring out how damaged the war had left everyone and what that might lead them to do. Her plans would have been the better for it.

But she had been young and impatient. She hadn't wanted to wait. She had wanted to move as quickly as possible because there was so much to do. She doubted she could get everything done in her lifetime, even though wizards tended to live longer than Muggles. She would simply have to deal with the situation before her as gracefully as possible.

Besides, she couldn't quite find it in herself to regret falling for Draco, despite the fact it was clearly the worst of all her faux pas.

****

It was all Draco could do not to smirk when he waltzed into his office Tuesday morning. Sitting there in the lobby to his office was Balthazar Merlose. "Well, well," he said. "It is certainly a pleasant surprise to see you here."

The old wizard looked suspicious at the greeting. He rose to his feet. "My apologies, young Malfoy, for descending upon you without an appointment again."

"No apologies are needed," Draco said quickly. "Far be it for me to insist on such trifling things like appointments when I know you are infinitely more busy than I."

"Indeed. That is something that I wish you had remembered the last time I dropped in."

"That's not all I would change about that meeting," Draco said under his breath but still loud enough for the other wizard to hear. He coughed before speaking again. "But here I am wasting your time again. Let's go into my office. We have much of which to speak." He led the old man into his office. Thankfully it was early and so his secretary hadn't arrived yet. If it were at all possible, he wanted to keep this meeting with the head of the Department of Mysteries a secret. It was a stroke of luck that he came in early to work the day that Merlose had decided to pay a visit.

Draco gestured for the old man to take a seat as he closed the door. "Normally I would ask if you would like some tea or coffee, but I'm afraid that it's so early that no one else is here." He went over and sat behind his desk.

"That was precisely my intent, young Malfoy," replied the old man. "As your letter so aptly noted, there are people watching everywhere."

Draco nodded his head. "Yes, that is so very true. We are both lucky, I guess, that you picked the one day I came in to work early." He smiled self-deprecatingly. "It's not often that I'm here before everyone else. I must admit I usually take my time with breakfast and the like."

"Believe me, I know," said Merlose. "However it's not luck that you should be thanking for this fortuitous meeting, but me," he intoned. Draco raised an eyebrow. There was a hidden meaning to the old man's words, that much was clear. However, Draco had no concept what it could possibly be.

"Certainly I'm grateful for you taking the time to come by to see me." He kept a careful eye on his guest's face, but he found no clues in the old wizard's expression. "I know you are a very busy man, and I know the last time we were here…." He sighed for dramatic effect. "Let's just say I didn't appreciate the warning you were trying to give me nor the risk you had taken in simply agreeing to see me. And much less the time you had taken out of your full schedule to do me such a favor."

Merlose inclined his head in acknowledgement of Draco's apology. "Wisdom comes rather late to you, Draco."

Draco ground his teeth together. He hated to be patronized. He hated it when his parents did it, and he absolutely despised it from the old wizard sitting before him. "Not too late, I hope," he said as graciously as he could.

"No. Thankfully for the both of us, not too late. At least that is what I have determined. However I've been wrong on a few occasions lately. I'm not used to being wrong." Merlose's eyes had a faraway look to them. Draco remained silent. He was willing to bet that the old wizard was trying to figure out just how much of his hand to reveal. Draco would have to be patient and choose his words wisely if he were to have any hope of learning what Merlose's motives were.

"No, I'm not used to being wrong," Merlose repeated softly to himself. He snapped back to attention and looked Draco in the eye. "I blame your lovely Miss Granger for that," he stated bluntly.

Draco took that as his cue. "She's hardly _mine_," he said bitterly. "I completely misjudged her. I have found that she's not a witch who is easily controlled."

"No, she wouldn't be."

"If I may be perfectly frank, Hermione Granger is the most frightening witch I have ever come across. Her ability to focus is…." Draco shuddered. "It's second to none. And when she decides to do something…well one needs a lot of luck and a lot of planning to even have a hope of blocking her. I thought she would be useful in restoring my family to its rightful place. But now that I know her better, I can't shake the feeling that she's intending to use my family's resources for her own ends."

"I believe that is precisely what she is planning." Merlose leaned forward and lowered his voice. "Tell me, young Malfoy, what do you know of my research?"

"That is one of the most closely guarded secrets in the Ministry," Draco answered readily. "Though my family has long known that you are in charge of the oracles in the Department of Mysteries."

Merlose snorted. "I am responsible for far more than that. I created those oracles. It was my research on the science of divination that made them possible. And I am the only one with any skill in interpreting those oracles, at getting them to reveal what path fate will take."

"Fate?" Draco questioned. He didn't believe in such a thing, but he wasn't about to say that, not when Merlose was finally opening up to him. However, the old man wasn't fooled.

"Yes, fate, young Malfoy. I know it is hard for one such as yourself to give credence to the idea that our path has been more or less set for us. Yet that is the plain and simple truth. It is a truth that few are willing to look in the eye, and their punishment for such failure is to be bound by it." Merlose's voice grew louder as he spoke and by now he was almost shouting. "Indeed the only way to defy fate—the only way to rule fate!—is to first accept it and from there sway its course." A fierce light shone in the old man's eyes, and Draco could tell that the wizard firmly believed every word of his short speech.

Merlose inhaled sharply. "Forgive me," he said in a softer tone of voice, looking genuinely abashed. "Forgive an old man his tendency to rant on a subject long dear to him. It isn't often that I speak so plainly, and so I fear that I was over-excited."

"No," said Draco. "You don't. You do not think that fate is a topic that one can be overly passionate about," he pointed out.

Merlose jolted in his seat and cast a sharp glance his way. "That is correct. You have changed since we last spoke. You are far more observant now."

Draco twisted his mouth into a parody of a smile. "You know who I am up against. Can you blame me for changing?"

The old wizard shook his head. "You had to change. If you hadn't, we wouldn't be having this conversation. _She _would have seen to that." The old man's eyes darted away from Draco. "That much I suppose I can attribute to luck. Fortune has favored me that much at least," he muttered under his breath. Draco concealed a smirk. He could hear every word Merlose spoke thanks to an ever-present eavesdropping charm that he had installed the first day he started to work in this office.

"Yes, she would have. As it is, I am fortunate that she is distracted by the rumors circulating about her these days. Otherwise I doubt the owl I sent would have ever made it to you."

"She doesn't trust you," Merlose stated.

"I don't think she trusts anyone, not even her best friends," Draco replied. "Do you?"

"No, she doesn't. She keeps her counsel to herself. That is the one weakness of hers that I've been able to exploit. And now, of course, there is you."

"There is me," Draco repeated slowly. "Tell me, what is it that you have against Granger? If we are to be allies, then I want to know."

The old man raised an eyebrow. For a moment Draco thought that he had pressed too hard and that Merlose was going to shut up. However, he was rewarded when Merlose spoke up again. "If we are to be allies, then you need to know. You need to know what you are up if we are to have any chance against our common enemy." He got up from his chair and started to pace back and forth in front of Draco.

"You studied divination in Hogwarts, did you not? Under Sybil Trelawney, a seer of some small talent?" he asked abruptly.

"That's correct."

The old man sneered. "Divination by humans is not anything to be relied upon. Even the best of seers are wrong more often than they are right. But the fact that you have studied the subject means that you've heard of what they call the Inner Eye."

"I do believe that was mentioned in class." Draco fought the urge to roll his eyes. The old bat generally went off on that subject at least once a week.

"And you do not believe in it, do you, young Malfoy?" Merlose noted sagely. "You're not the type who would. But as silly as it sounds, it does describe something very real in our world. This Inner Eye is the ability of seers to take in a host of slight cues—from the body language of those around them, from the prevailing weather patterns, indeed even from the constant ebb and flow of magic in the world. They take in these cues and somehow process them to come up with predictions which come true. This is how they read the future.

"But as I said before, even the best seer fails in her interpretation of these signals, more often than not. The human mind is not equipped to deal with so much data coming in. Far too often, we ignore data that is truly important in favor of data that seems important. Do you understand what I am saying?"

Draco nodded his head. He understood what the old wizard was saying, that there was a limit to how much information the human mind could process even subconsciously.

"Good. This innate limit to human divination is not something discussed in textbooks. I daresay that if you mentioned such a thing to your old professor, she would be insulted. Indeed I only learned of this when I researched divination." Merlose puffed out his chest in pride. "I may not be the first one to discover this problem, but I am the first one to set it down on parchment."

Draco knew that there had to be more behind the old man's obvious pride. So he decided to take a stab at what might be fueling Merlose's ego. "You were also the one to discover a solution?" he guessed.

"That's exactly right. I did discover a solution and from the most surprising of sources."

"From Muggles," Draco said confidently. From Merlose's choice of words that was the only thing that made sense even though he still did not know what that solution consisted of.

"Indeed. From Muggles. For you see, the average Muggle is blind and deaf to the magic that literally pervades the world, and so he has to compensate for that disability in other ways. Throughout history the way that has been the most fruitful for him is the use of mathematics."

"Mathematics?" Draco wrinkled his brow. He had heard of the word before, but he couldn't place.

"Yes. Think of it as Arithmancy without the magic."

"Arithmancy without any magic?" That made no sense. Draco couldn't wrap his mind around what Merlose was trying to describe. There was no Arithmancy without magic. It was just a bunch of random equations. "So you mean random numbers and equations?" he asked, uncertain that such a thing could work.

"Yes…and no. Some of their numbers are undefined, so to speak. I believe they call them imaginary. It's a useful conceit for them. Remember that their perception is limited due to the fact that all they can observe is the physical world. But because of that, their equations in regards to the physical world are far more complete than ours. Indeed the most brilliant of their scientists have posited a few theorems that can be used to explain both the physical and the magical world."

"I see," said Draco. The old man was open about his admiration of these Muggle theorists, and that only increased Draco's curiosity as to what Merlose had against Hermione. If Merlose respected Muggles so much, then it should follow that he wouldn't hold Hermione's blood status against her.

"In any event, it was evident to me that if Muggles could being to approach the magical world through the use of math despite their obvious handicap, then wizards should be able to comprehend the flow of time and the direction of fate through the same mechanism." The old wizard stopped there and allowed his words to sink in.

Draco's mind raced as he struggled to comprehend what Merlose was telling him. "So you mean the Department of Mysteries' oracles are simply…that all they do is…that it's just Arithmancy?"

"Basically yes. But they're able to calculate on a scale that a single wizard could not hope to approach. That's thanks to another Muggle invention. One Charles Babbage created something known as a computer that was designed to handle advanced calculations. I simply took his idea to the next step and created something that could handle both Muggle and magical equations," said Merlose.

"And that's all they do?" repeated Draco. "Then how can they predict the future?"

"They don't predict the future as such. The oracles simply measure the flow and direction of fate. And even then, they each have their own specialty when it comes to making predictions. For you see, there is virtually an infinite amount of variables out there, and each oracle can only handle so many. But when one conflates all their data…well let me just say that is how I've been able to map fate. That is how I've been able to make the grandest of my predictions." He chuckled to himself. "And my record is far better than even the most reliable of seers."

"But not lately," Draco pointed out.

The old man glowered at that reminder. "I know. It is most distressing." He started pacing to and fro once more. "There is a reason for that. Most people are predictable. You can tell how they will react in any given situation. In fact, when confronted with a particular situation, there are only so many actions that they are willing to take. The future is not as infinite as you might believe because humans impose limits on it all the time. And if you can identify the important actors and how they are likely to act, then you can control it."

"I see." Draco watched the wizard through narrowed eyes. Merlose was a formidable opponent, and this had to be the reason why. The wily old wizard had figured out a way to chart a future. Hermione would kill for that knowledge. The old man had to know it, and that was probably the reason why he was so set against the witch. Draco really didn't know how he was going to be able to convince Merlose to back off of Hermione.

However, Merlose wasn't finished speaking just yet. "Yes, most people are predictable," he said. "Not all though. There are times when there is a rogue element to the pattern…someone whose actions cannot be foreseen. And what's worse—these anarchic elements are almost impossible to take down for they have incredible luck. They ruin the conventional pattern of fate and introduce chaos into my orderly system. I discovered this when much to my chagrin my oracles would occasionally make mistakes. It's as though fate itself created these agents to protect itself."

He paused to take a deep breath. "I had thought that when Harry Potter finally finished off You-Know-Who that the last obstacle standing in between me and a clear view of fate was gone. I thought wrong. Little did I know that fate had been grooming another to be its agent of chaos… none other than Harry Potter's Muggle-born friend."

"So is what you're saying is that Hermione Granger is some sort of agent of fate? Whose purpose is to make the future unpredictable?"

"Yes, that's right. It may be that she doesn't know that is what she's doing. I doubt the dark lord did. Nonetheless that is the consequence of her actions."

The old man clearly did not know what he was talking about. It was all Draco could do not to gape openly. Hermione Granger was the most orderly person he knew. Not only that, he knew perfectly well that she had no intent to make it impossible to predict the future. Rather she wanted the opposite—she wanted the Wizarding World under her control so she could change it for the better.

Although he could see how his witch's ambition could throw off Merlose's oracles. It was probably the same for back when You-Know-Who was around. Merlose and Hermione were natural foils, both of them striving to control the fate of the world, albeit in very different ways. While Merlose tried to control fate through the use of his oracles, Hermione took a more direct route. She would control the world by amassing political, social, and economic power.

It didn't take Draco long at all to pick a side. While Merlose's theories undoubtedly had merit, Hermione's path to power was far more exciting.

Not to mention the fact that she was far better looking than the old man. If Draco had to pick a side to jump into bed with…well, there was no competition. He didn't seek for the other team anyway.

"So that's why you're so desperate to get rid of her," Draco noted. He kept his counsel to himself and took care not to meet the old man's eyes.

"Exactly. She's an obstacle that I must overcome if I am to…well let's say if I am to succeed," said Merlose. "But like all agents of fate, she has luck on her side. Until now that is."

"Oh?"

"Don't you see, boy? She wants you. Surely you must have guessed at her attraction to you by now." An evil grin appeared on the old man's visage. "I doubt she would expect an attack from you."

Draco stiffened. He didn't like the turn of this conversation. "And I doubt things would go well for me if I did anything to her," he said coldly.

"They'll go well enough. I promise you that," said Merlose fervently. "Trust me, my boy. We can set her up, and I'll vouch for you. You won't land in Azkaban. I'll guarantee that."

That could be interpreted in more than one way. Draco knew immediately what the old man was plotting. He wanted to use Draco to take out Hermione. Once Draco had done the deed, Merlose would then turn on him. When the inevitable Auror investigation took place, the cunning old man would claim that he had tried to protect Hermione from the evil Death Eater but had attacked too late. His word would never be in doubt; the Wizarding World would be all too willing to believe that Draco Malfoy was a murderer. That would leave Merlose with everything he had wanted all along. Not only would the witch he saw as his final obstacle be erased, he would have also rid the earth of the only other wizard to know of the secret behind his oracles. It was a good plan. There was only one problem with it.

Draco Malfoy was no fool.

He had known all along that Merlose was babbling a bit too freely for his liking. Merlose wasn't the type to give away all his secrets on the mere hope of cementing a possible alliance. No, the only reason why Merlose has said so much was because he had intended from the very start to kill the younger wizard off. Draco knew that he was in a precarious position here. If he didn't agree immediately to Merlose's demands, then the old man was likely to attack him straight away. If Draco got out of this situation, he would have to join forces with Hermione as soon as possible so that they could combat the old man.

Which was just as well. He had wanted to do so anyway.

"So that's it," he said slowly. He discreetly reached for his wand. "That's your plan."

"Yes, yes. A bit simple perhaps, but I have found that simple plans have less chance of failure," said Merlose.

"So just to refresh my memory…you say that the reason why you're against Hermione is because she's some sort of agent of fate?" said Draco. He smiled to himself as he thought of a way to turn the tables.

The old man sniffed impatiently. "Yes! Haven't I already made that clear? And here I thought that you were intelligent."

"I could say the same." Draco leaned back in his seat. He felt in control of the situation once more. Merlose wouldn't know what hit him.

"And what do you mean by that?" asked Merlose coldly.

"I mean that there are three positions you could have taken in regards to Hermione. You could have become her ally and enlisted her aid. She's a witch after all, and she might have melted at your story of lost love and woe." Draco was gratified to see the old man's jaw hit the floor.

"But no, you didn't do that. You decided not to go that route. Of course, you could have also stayed neutral, waiting it out to see if something else would take her out. Yes I know that you've mentioned her incredible luck, but she does have her enemies. Eventually her luck would run out," said Draco. "But again, you didn't take that path. You were too impatient. You had waited out the last agent of fate that had got in your way, and you were feeling your age. And so you decided on the most dangerous path of all…you chose to get in her way. You decided to get rid of her, to use your vast network of contacts to bring her down by spreading ruinous rumors about her. And now that that hasn't worked, you're getting ready to take the ultimate step. You still haven't admitted that your mistake all along, that you were wrong to think that you could somehow beat her."

Draco placed his hands on his desk and leaned forward. Strengthening his mental shields, he confidently met Merlose's eyes. "That wasn't very clever of you, now was it?"

Quick as a snake, the old man whipped out his wand, launching a curse at Draco's head. However the younger wizard was already moving and he tumbled out of his chair. He rolled to his side, casting a protective shield as he did so. He got to his feet. He dodged two more curses from Merlose, who had foolishly not cast a _Protego_ of his own. Draco made him pay for it with a stunning curse that hit its mark, blasting the old man across the room.

"What a fool!" Draco said derisively. He stalked across the room to where the old man laid unconscious on the floor. Draco gripped his wand. He should kill the old wizard. He wouldn't even have to use the killing curse to do it. He could just use a slicing hex to separate Merlose's head from his shoulders. It would be so easy for him to do. But as he continued to grip his wand and stare at his opponent, he found that he just couldn't.

He hadn't been a murderer as a sixth year at Hogwarts, and unfortunately with everything on the line, he wasn't one now.

"Blast it all!" Draco ground his teeth together, berating his weakness. He simply had to do something to Merlose. The old wizard was too dangerous to let run loose. And there weren't many options open to him. He couldn't hold Merlose under the _Imperious_ curse indefinitely—not only was the old man too strong-willed for that, his use of dark magic would undoubtedly get detected. Killing the old man would be the neatest solution. He sighed to himself as he looked at the other wizard once more.

He still couldn't do it.

So instead he cast an _Obliviate_ and then another, hoping to erase the old man's memory of this meeting. Of course even that wasn't safe enough. Wizards had been known to recover from a powerful _Obliviate_ before. Not to mention the fact that he wouldn't put it past Merlose to have some sort of failsafe just in case something happened to him. Draco cast half a dozen confounding charms on the old wizard in order to further confuse his memory. Then he clapped his hands to signal the House-elf on duty. He instructed the elf to leave the unconscious wizard in some seedy backstreet in Knockturn Alley where he was certain to be found.

Hopefully his obviously cursed condition would land the old wizard in St Mungo's long enough for Draco to finish the game he was playing with Hermione. It had gone on long enough. He needed her and her wit in order to counteract whatever else Merlose had up his sleeve. He trusted that he had been charming enough to make her love him. If he made a few meaningless concessions to her, then he saw no reason why they couldn't rule the Wizarding World together.

Besides he had been sleeping alone for far too long. It was about time he did something to remedy that.

****

**Author's note:** That sounds like a promising ending, doesn't it? Hopefully that should clear a few things up. And I can promise the next chapter will clear up even more. Reviews would be lovely as I'm very curious as to what everyone thought of this chapter.

My thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter: starrlightt, MamaJMarie, nsud13, antoinette007, ebbe004, Dame Brittany, Chanteur d'ombre, RaineyDays, mkhtl, gitgit, Lea1286, KoRnChildG, DodgerMcClure, celticscorpion, misssweetsweet, HazelFromBehind, karaburnes, Dixiecharmer, Ayame89, mlui, kazfeist, Aastha Panit, and DCoD.


	29. Roses and Wine

**Ambition's End: Roses and Wine**

**Disclaimer:** None of these characters are mine as they all belong to JKR.

****

Hermione glanced nervously at the clock as she walked through her front door, hoping she had enough time to change. Tonight was the night. Draco had finally agreed to show her where they would be living after their marriage, and she wanted to look her best. But then she always did whenever they were together. Wizards might sometimes say that they didn't care about looks, but that was a lie they told to get laid. Hermione knew that it mattered even if people weren't usually willing to admit it. It was a lesson she had learned back at Hogwarts, and she wouldn't ever forget it.

Unfortunately she didn't have all that much time to get ready as Draco was due to arrive in less than fifteen minutes. She rolled her eyes. He simply had to be up to something. It wasn't coincidence that he was going to pick her up at her flat so shortly after she got off work this Friday. He had to be expecting that she wouldn't be looking her best and so would be feeling off her game. Little did he know that she had mastered the art of getting ready in ten minutes or less. It wasn't her preferred mode; she much rather take her time in the shower getting cleaned rather than having to rely on charms.

She strode into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her more out of habit than out of any real need. She stripped out of her work robes and tossed them into her laundry basket. Hermione removed her wand from its holster and put it on her bed before stepping out of her undergarments, adding those to her dirty laundry. Then she picked up her wand. With one wave of it, she applied a cleansing charm to rid herself of the dirt and the grime of the day. She waved it again for a refreshing charm. She put down her wand once more and started to get dressed.

Hermione had known that she might be short on time to get ready for the evening ever since Draco had told her when he wanted to pick her up. Therefore she had prepared for the worst. Before she had left for work that morning, she had already laid out on her bed everything that she wanted to wear this evening.

She grinned wickedly to herself as she slipped into a fresh set of lacy undergarments; it never hurt to be ready for anything, no matter how unlikely or far-fetched the contingency. She then pulled on the red silk dress robes that she had been saving for a special occasion. Hermione took her wand and went into her bathroom to fix her hair. She pulled it up into a messy bun, leaving a few stray curls to artfully frame her face. Finally it was time to add the finishing touches—a simple gold necklace adorned her neck and matching earrings were to be found on her ears. She concealed her wand in her robes, and just like that, she was done with five minutes to spare.

Hermione walked back to her living room where Draco was due to arrive. She had spent the better part of last night resetting her anti-Apparition wards to allow him entrance. Even though it was extra work for her, she felt the statement that it made was well worth it.

She settled down on her sofa to wait. No sooner had she assembled herself so that she was sitting very prettily with her hands resting delicately on her lap did the wards on her flat chime, letting her know that someone was Apparating over. A soft pop followed, and then Draco was there, just like that.

She gracefully rose to greet him. "Draco," she said. She smiled up at him. "You can't possibly know how I'm excited I am to see you."

He raised an eyebrow. "To see me? Or to finally see our new home?"

She laughed merrily. "Can't it be both?"

He returned her grin. "Yes, but I was hoping your enthusiasm would be more for me." He sighed and shook his head. "Ah well. You can't have everything."

Hermione looked askance at him briefly but wisely held her tongue. Privately she was surprised at that comment. Draco had, after all, been raised to expect everything. But then experience had been a harsh teacher, and he had undoubtedly learned otherwise.

She crossed the distance between them. Impulsively she kissed him. She meant it to last for only a moment, for it to be just a sweet, welcoming kiss. But as soon as her lips touched his, his arms wrapped around her, lifting her up and closer to him. Though her mind was surprised at the depths of her passion, her mind and her body knew what she wanted. She responded in kind, closing her eyes and savoring the moment.

All too soon, it was over, and Draco set her back down on her feet. Her heart racing, Hermione could feel her cheeks heating up, which was all the indication she needed to know that she was blushing. But that was all right. Draco was just as affected. Two bright pink spots shone upon his cheeks. His eyes were unfocused and dreamy. He had all the signs of being a man deep in love.

She couldn't suppress her smile at that thought. "So was that more of the type of greeting you were looking for?" she asked coyly, batting her eyelashes at him. That made him start coughing fitfully. "Are you all right?" She patted him on the back a couple times.

"Yes," he answered in between coughs, "just breathed at the wrong moment there." He shook his head ruefully. "And that would be a spectacular greeting. I suppose now I should take a step back and ask you how your day went."

That sent her eyes rolling towards the ceiling. "Don't. The less said about my day, the better." She wrinkled her nose as she recalled just how awful the work week had been for her. "You wouldn't believe how hectic my department has become ever since Merlose was discovered in Knockturn Alley." Draco's coughing fit took a turn for the worse, and she turned her attention back to him.

The thought crossed her mind that perhaps he had something to do with her boss landing in St. Mungo's. That would be sweet in a twisted way; certainly Merlose had been one of her major annoyances. On the flip side, however, it seemed as though everyone in her department was jockeying for his position. She had spent all her time at work dealing with departmental politics rather than getting any research done. She shook her head to try and clear it of such thoughts. She didn't want to think of work tonight.

"Are you certain you're all right?" she asked as Draco's coughs came to an end. "You aren't getting sick, are you?" She laid a hand against his forehead to gauge his temperature. He felt normal.

"I'm fine. I just breathed wrong, that's all. Shall we go?" he asked. "I thought you were impatient to see your new home."

She accepted the explanation he offered and took his hand. He drew her closer to him so that she was standing in his embrace and then he Apparated the both of them. For a moment, she felt disorientated, like she always did after side-along Apparition. Then her head cleared up, and she looked eagerly around at her surroundings. They had arrived in the middle of a grand ballroom. Hermione stepped away from Draco so she could go and peer out the windows.

"Where are we?" she asked as she looked outside. She was certain that the house was somewhere near Diagon Alley but she didn't recognize the streets.

"I thought I made it clear. This will be our new home," he replied blandly.

She lifted an eyebrow and looked at him. "Prat. You know what I meant."

He chuckled softly. "I couldn't help myself," he offered as an explanation. "It is not often that you leave yourself open like that."

That was a statement that left a lot open to interpretation. Hermione rolled her eyes impatiently. "Don't apologize. Just answer my original question," she said testily.

He raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything else to tease her. Instead he said, "We're in Diggory Square."

"Oh!" Hermione immediately knew what he was talking about. Diggory Square was a true rarity for it was a new development near the heart of Wizarding London. "More commonly known as Unity Square, right? I wasn't aware that it was open already."

"It isn't really. This house is the first one to be occupied," he informed her.

"I see." And she did. It didn't escape her notice that the two of them were the perfect poster couple for the new community.

"It will be a couple months before more houses are filled," continued Draco. "They are still putting the finishing touches on things. Fortunately I was able to get this place for us ahead of schedule."

"Is that so?" she said neutrally. Privately Hermione thought that the fact their house was ready was more thanks to his fortune than to good luck.

He nodded his head. "Yes, though there are some disadvantages. For one, it's better to Apparate here as you never know what streets might be closed."

"That's hardly a disadvantage. Besides I rather like the idea of us being the first ones living here. The privacy will be nice," said Hermione. "Particularly right after the wedding." She winced, thinking of the publicity that was sure to follow them after that grand event.

"Good point," said Draco.

"Thanks." Hermione walked back to the center of the room with Draco following a step behind. She couldn't help but notice along the way that he had clearly spared no expense when it came to outfitting the house. She couldn't fault the quality of any of the furnishings. She rotated in a circle and looked critically at every detail. The ballroom was a good size. While it wasn't half as large as the one at Malfoy Manor, it was more than adequate for their needs. The decorations bordered on the whimsical. It brought a smile on her face to see both lions and dragons incorporated into the room's motif.

The drapes, however, were another story. They simply wouldn't do. They were nice enough but they didn't quite fit the room. She nodded her head decisively.

Draco sidled up to stand beside her. "So what do you think?" he asked. "Like what you see?" He winked flirtatiously at her.

She raised an eyebrow at him. Then she pointedly looked up and down at him slowly. "Yes," she stated matter-of-factly.

He smirked. "That's what I thought."

"Of course that's what you thought. No one has ever accused you of humility." She eyed the drapes again. They were very distracting. "We will just have to replace the window treatments," she muttered to herself.

"Excuse me?"

"Hmm?" Hermione realized that she had spoken out loud. "Sorry about that. I was just making a mental list. Those drapes? They'll have to go."

"Why? What's wrong with them?" His forehead wrinkled. He crossed his arms in a belligerent manner. "Nice. I should have picked that up straight away. You don't actually like the room at all, do you?"

She rushed to reassure him. "No, no, it's not that at all. It's lovely really. And I honestly like how you incorporated both of our Houses into everything. It's just that…."

"It's just what?" he prodded her.

"Red and green drapes, Draco?" She winced. "Yes, they do match everything but they're a bit much. Makes me think of Christmas done too extravagantly. Don't get me wrong. I appreciate the intent. But the actual drapes...not so much."

"So is that the only thing you want to change?" he asked.

She chewed her bottom lip, not sure how to respond. She didn't want to commit to keeping everything else the same when she had yet to see the rest of the house.

He surprised her then by smiling at her. "Let me rephrase that. Is that the only thing you want to change in this room?"

She beamed back at him. "Yes!"

"I suppose I sort of expected that. All right then. This is your home too, and I do want you to feel comfortable here. Though I must admit I have to wonder what you have against Christmas."

"Oh nothing," she assured him.

"Good. Because my mother hosts this—how best to put it?—well each year she hosts the most extravagant Christmas party in all of the Wizarding World. Each year she manages to outdo herself yet again. I'm positive you'll enjoy it."

"How lovely." He laughed at her, and Hermione knew that she must looked as though she had swallowed a bitter pill.

"Come on then. Let me give you the grand tour." With a flourish, he offered her an arm. "Tell me, will you need some parchment for that list you're making?"

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly at him even as she took his arm. "You like being impossible, don't you?"

"It's part of my charm, darling."

A giddy feeling settled over Hermione. It was intoxicating to her him call her darling, to see him beam at her, and to be cradled so closely to his side. She had it bad, and she knew it. But then so did he. She would have never thought it possible when she had first set out to trap him, but Hermione believed that she had a very good chance of being genuinely happy with Draco. It was an amazing thing.

The two of them set off to tour the house. For the most part, Draco's choice of decor was exquisite. Certainly he had more refined tastes than either of her best friends. Hermione credited Narcissa's influence for that. While she didn't like the blonde witch, there was no point in denying that Draco had been heavily influenced by her. While most wizards she knew could put together an outfit that matched, furnishing a room—much less an entire home—was a different matter. But after passing through several rooms that were perfect as is, it was on the tip of Hermione's tongue to ask Draco if he had had any help. She held back, however, for she knew the answer. He had done this on his own in order to keep it as secret as possible. He was a Slytherin at heart.

Hermione had no changes to suggest until they reached the library.

"What?" asked Draco, noticing her pursed lips. "I know that the shelves are half empty, but I thought you would enjoy filling those of volumes of your own choosing."

"It's not that. I do like the idea of the library having room to grow," she said. Which was true. She did like the idea. However, the furniture left much to be desired. Draco had installed several tables of varying size in the library, each with an appropriate number of chairs. Obviously the tables would be useful when researching as she liked being able to spread around different volumes.

Reading for pleasure was an entirely different matter.

She sighed, then realized Draco was waiting on her to explain what was missing. "It's all just too functional," she said, waving a hand at the room.

"Too functional? That's a bad thing?" He looked at her as though she had grown another head.

"In this case, yes. It's that I like to use a library for relaxation as well as for studying," she explained. "I didn't spend all my time at Hogwarts studying. There were many times I read for fun. Although I never could get that concept through Harry and Ron's heads," she said. She frowned. She wondered if that was a foreign concept to Draco as well.

"Is that so?" Draco said mildly. She could tell from the tone of his voice that he was biting his tongue. She grinned. She had given him the perfect opening to insult her friends, but he hadn't. She would wager that he didn't want to risk their still fragile truce by starting an argument about Harry and Ron. Draco was too invested in her to chance that.

"So I guess you would like some armchairs?" he offered.

"That would be a very good start. And maybe some end tables by them to stack books on," she said. She shrugged her shoulders. "We can change things up as we add to our book collection."

The two of them continued with the tour of the house. Draco briefly showed her the master suite that they would share—during which she intermittently blushed, much to her chagrin—before moving on to the different guest rooms. He mentioned in passing that he had prepared a set of rooms for her in case she ever wanted to stay the night. It was a topic that neither of them was all that comfortable addressing so by mutual consent, they let it drop.

All in all, Hermione was pleased with the house. There were changes that she wanted to make, but Draco was amenable to all of them. There was one subject, however, that she hadn't broached with him yet.

She really didn't know how he would react if she asked to be able to add her own wards to the already powerful ones placed on the house.

While walking through the house, it was impossible to ignore the magic that practically hung in the air. It constantly pressed against her skin, and somehow she could tell that the house's magic was attuned to Draco's. He had done a thorough job when it came to warding everything; she felt very safe to be surrounded by the spells he had cast. But although her heart was certain she had nothing to fear, her mind was more pragmatic than that. She was sensible enough to see the importance in adding her own magic to the potent mix protecting them.

She was also clever enough to figure out that Draco might not take too kindly to that suggestion. So she remained silent on the topic even as she was trying to decide the best way to broach the subject. She had already discounted several possibilities by the time they returned to the dining room to eat.

"Something on your mind, darling?" asked Draco as he led her into the room.

"Hmm?" she responded, still lost in thought. She roused herself out of her reverie. "No, it's nothing. I'm just trying to keep track of all the changes we've agreed on." She then frowned as she looked at the dining table. "Oh dear," she said. The dining table was large and formal. It was easily long enough to seat a couple dozen guests. "Is that where we're going to eat?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Yes, it is. Why do you ask? I know that Muggles eat at tables too. That's what we did when we visited your parents."

"My family's dining table is much smaller," she pointed out.

"Well my family's is much larger. This is a happy compromise, I think."

Hermione looked down the expanse of the table. She checked a sigh. "And let me guess. We'll sit at opposite ends." She knew that he was going to answer affirmatively, and he did. "I must say I'm not accustomed with having to shout across the table to be heard."

"That's what magic is for, darling."

"I see," she said simply. She required no further explanation; obviously the table was spelled so that he could hear her easily even though they sat on opposite sides. She allowed him to escort her to her seat and watched through veiled eyes as he took his. Draco was being very affectionate this evening, and it didn't appear to be an act. While he was not completely at ease with her—there was some tension in his frame, though she knew not the reason—he did feel something for her.

It was funny how she had to keep reassuring herself about that. But then, Hermione supposed it would be simply awful if she was the only one who had fallen in love. Unrequited love made for very good stories, but she didn't want to personally experience its bitter tang. Originally that had been one of the reasons she had chosen Malfoy; she had thought that it would be impossible for her to fall for him. That hadn't been the driving force behind her choice—she valued his wealth and connections the most—but she had known all along how dangerous it would be for her to fall in love with her pure-blood husband.

It was just too bad that she hadn't done more to prevent that.

Still her logical side told her that danger was somewhat abated by the fact that Draco felt at least as much for her as she did for him. Just as it would be hard for her to raise her wand against him, it would be hard for him to try and harm her.

"Are you quite sure that there's nothing wrong, my dear?" Draco asked from his place at the head of the table, interrupting Hermione's thoughts.

"Do you mean aside from the fact that this table is really too long?" she returned. She grinned at him. "I feel rather lonely sitting here all by myself."

"You're hardly alone when I'm over here," he stated.

"But it seems like you're miles away!" she exclaimed melodramatically, clasping her hands to her chest in mock despair.

Her antics teased a soft smile out of him. "It's hardly that far," he said. "Besides you can hardly expect for us to have a small table in our formal dining room."

"Formal dining room?" she repeated. "Does that mean there's another?"

He waved his hand vaguely. "There is a small room attached to the kitchen," he said. "You might like it better. I thought that we might figure out later what room we'd prefer to eat in when we're eating at home. If the last couple months are anything to go by, that will be the exception rather than the rule."

"That's true," said Hermione. She wrinkled her nose. The two of them had eaten at countless restaurants the last two and a half months, putting on a good show for society. Last week when she cooked dinner for him was the first time they ate together in private. When she stopped to think about it, it was downright amazing how far they had come in their relationship. Originally they both thought of it as a convenient sham, but now it was a living, breathing thing.

"All right then. I don't know about you, but I'm starving," said Draco. With a flourish, he removed his napkin from the table.

"Of course you are. I've never met a wizard who wasn't," quipped Hermione. But she followed his lead and placed her napkin on her lap. Instantly the table was covered with foodstuffs galore. Hermione smiled and bit her tongue as she surveyed the spread. She knew very well how everything had appeared like magic; there had to be one or two house-elves in charge of dinner for the evening. She had no illusions in that regards. Despite the fact she didn't like how the poor elves were being used, she didn't feel that now was the time to broach that subject with Draco, especially not after he had obviously spent so much time and effort in getting the house ready and planning this dinner for the two of them. Hermione knew how to pick and choose her battles, and the matter of house-elves wasn't one she was ready to fight yet.

But she silently promised herself that she would prepare for that particular argument. When she finally approached Draco about paying the elves, she intended to win that battle.

The two of them chatted throughout dinner. Draco briefly asked about her department. She smiled tightly in response and noted that no one knew what had happened to old Merlose before changing the subject to talk about his Quidditch team. Even though she wasn't a fan of the sport, she couldn't ignore the headlines touting the amazing turnaround they were having in their fortunes halfway through the season.

"Ah yes," said Draco. He took a sip of wine, looking smugly satisfied. "It's incredible what new equipment can do for a team."

"Oh?"

"They have new brooms," he explained. "I invested in this one small company, and one of the terms of my investment was that my team was to receive the first batch of brooms."

"I see. Does that mean when the next batch hits the market—"

He waved her concerns aside. "I've already got that figured out. Seeing how they're such a small outfit, I've managed to convince them that they'll sell more with my company acting as the distributor. We have to drum up interest in the new brooms first before we release them to the public, and it just so happens that the Wasps' continued success is the best advertisement possible for their product."

"Nice," she said in an admiring tone of voice. She had to respect how he used his shrewdness in running his business.

"Thank you," he replied. They continued to go from one topic to the next, and Hermione found that she was enjoying herself. She liked being able to talk to him without fighting. It wasn't as though they agreed on everything. They got into a vigorous argument over the standards Hogwarts held for its professors, with Draco bitterly protesting the fact that Neville was in line to teach Herbology there. But then that would get boring. What was missing from their verbal tiffs, however, was the enmity that had used to separate them back when they were students. It was so refreshing for Hermione to converse with Draco, who was both witty and charming, without any hostility.

She rather imagined she could have fallen in love with him long ago if they hadn't always been at each other's throat when they were younger.

The ebb and flow of their conversation went on, and eventually they somehow turned to the subject of how they became engaged, with Draco practically waxing nostalgic on the whole matter.

"I still find it astounding," he said. "I mean really it was such a piece of luck for me to find out about…well you know."

"That I do," she replied. She tried to maintain a calm façade, but it rankled to have him think that he was able to pull one over on her when the opposite was true. But then that was the whole beauty of her plan to trap him—Draco would never know.

"It's just that…it's kind of unbelievable when you think about it. For you to leave that information laying around the way it was. It's not like you," he added.

"I had a lot of things on my mind then." That explanation sounded lame to even her ears.

He laughed out loud. "Hermione, forgive me, but that's always the case when it comes to you."

She smiled wanly. "I guess that's so. Still I do think was busier than usual back then." A cold, icy feeling clenched in her gut. She didn't like how Draco was lingering over the subject, and she wanted to move on.

But he was too quick for her and continued before she could try to change the subject. "And then for you not to hex me? I knew I was taking a risk there showing my hand the way I did. Looking back, it would have been so easy for you to _Obliviate_ that knowledge away."

"Oh. You mean you didn't take any precautions? I kind of assumed you did."

"Some," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand, "but hardly adequate I think now that I look back on it. You are an extraordinarily powerful and resourceful witch. I was very lucky to have pulled that one off on you."

She shrugged her shoulders. "Well I like to think it all worked out in the end."

"Same here. But I'm sorry. I know I must be boring you by now. I'm just…speechless really thinking how I was able to persuade you the way I did. One has to get up very early in the morning to pull one over on Hermione Granger and all."

"No, you'd have to stay up all night," she muttered, more to herself than him.

"Good one." He raised his glass to her and then took a sip. "Just as well for me that I think sleep is overrated."

That was when she knew.

A shiver ran down her back. Hermione felt positively nauseous. He _knew_ that it had been no fluke that he had uncovered the blackmail material on her and that he had been able to persuade her to accept her proposal. That bloody bastard knew, and he had been playing her the entire evening.

"And I might add that when I look back at it, it is absolutely astonishing that the marriage law actually passed. I can assure you that my father and his associates weren't very serious about it at all. Indeed they hadn't heard about it until the day you stormed into a private meeting of theirs and demanded that they drop such nonsense."

Hermione remained very quiet, still shocked to the core that he had figured out even that much. But there was still more to come.

"Can you imagine that? You were the person responsible for planting the seed of the marriage law within their minds. Although I suppose we have Potter to blame for ultimately making them truly back the law. That speech of his was truly a disaster." Draco narrowed his eyes at her. "Such a pity you weren't able to control him better that day," he drawled.

"Harry is hardly my puppet," Hermione put in. "He can think for himself."

"Thinking is one thing, acting is another," he said with an arrogant curl of his lips. "Really, darling, you have nothing to be ashamed of. I'm rather flattered. To think that you had longed for me so long that you just had to go to such lengths to get me to propose to you." He smiled charmingly. "I don't suppose it ever crossed your mind just to ask me out?"

A sense of relief flooded through her body, warming her. Hermione wanted to relax but she knew she wasn't out of danger yet. Draco had come so close to figuring everything out. It was just more proof that she had acted too hastily in bringing her plot to fruition. But he was waiting for an answer, and she had to give him a believable one. "Considering how we were during Hogwarts, I didn't think you would ever give me a chance," she said through tight-lips.

He tilted his head to one side as he weighed her words. "True, true. You have to admit that it was a very elaborate plot just to get my attention." He chuckled. "But that's how you Gryffindors are, I guess. You all are fools for love."

She forced herself to laugh with him. "You don't know how right you are," she said.

"I suppose not." He paused yet again, and she tensed. She had become used to him and just knew that pause didn't bode well for her. She crossed her fingers, hoping that whatever he demanded next wouldn't be too bad.

An eternity seemed to pass before he spoke again. Finally he said, "But your plan was so very good; it was well thought out and carried out perfectly. You know, if you were a Slytherin, I would think that your intention was to rule the world."

This time she couldn't stop the gasp that crossed her lips.

"I see," he said mildly. He leaned back in his chair and offered her a smug smirk. "You might want to work on controlling your emotions better, my dear. I assure you that it is an essential part to being as cunning as a Slytherin."

She rolled her eyes. She hardly needed any lessons in being cunning. While Draco might have discovered her plans, there was no way he could have pulled it off if their positions were reversed. Indeed she knew of no Slytherin capable of executing complicated plans the way she was.

"Silence as well will do you no good," Draco prattled on. "I do so wish to hear you speak on this matter, darling."

That set her teeth on edge. Hermione wasn't the type to suffer the commands of others easily, no matter what she felt for them. Still there was no point in remaining quiet. She would have to speak some time, and the sooner the better. "What do you expect me to say?" she asked with an airy toss of her head.

"Hardly that. Maybe confirm my suspicions, maybe try to deny them…."

"And what would be the point of that?" she snorted. "You're not likely to believe any denial I might come up with. You're no fool," she finished bitingly.

"Thank you," he said. His tone was warm and pleasant, quite a contrast to her own. But then, he probably felt at ease, seeing how he had planned for this particular encounter. Hermione was very much at a disadvantage here, and they both knew it.

She was going to have to do something to change that.

Straight away she decided to try and take a more conciliatory approach than she had been. Draco clearly wanted to talk about her ambitions, and she was willing to bet that he wanted in. He was a Slytherin after all. However, although it hurt to think that she might still wind up crossing wands with him this evening, it didn't hurt to take things slow and try to suss out just exactly what it was that he wanted. If it was something unreasonable, such as her complete and utter submission to him, then she would have to deal with him appropriately.

Even if that did mean drawing her wand on him down the road.

But for now, she was determined to make the best of a bad situation. Hermione felt rather optimistic when she thought how Draco had changed. Though he was no longer the sniveling coward that he was back in Hogwarts and so was now a force to be reckoned with, he had also begun to think for himself. Therein laid her chance to convert him to her side.

She rather liked that idea. Hermione had thought for quite some time now that they were well suited to one another. This situation only further proved that she was right about that.

He crossed his eyes briefly as though irritated at her continued silence, and she quickly drew breath to speak before he could give voice to his annoyance. "Seeing how you're no fool, I see little point in denying your accusations."

"And as for confirming them?"

"I wouldn't want to bore you."

His lips quirked up into a familiar smirk. It didn't seem fair to Hermione that he could look so handsome while being so smug. "Boredom is not something I have to fear when it comes to living with you. Go on then," he said with a wave of his hand. "I do want to hear about how right I was about everything."

"That's a dangerous conceit," she told him.

"We all have our flaws, my dear, and I do believe pride is one we both share."

Her lips twisted into an odd half smile. He was right at that. "All right then. If you insist, then I'll tell you," she said. He nodded his head towards her, indicating that she was to continue. She paused to clear her throat before starting her rendition as she had a long tale in front of her.

"Before the war had even ended, I knew that my task wouldn't be ended by it," she said as a sort of prologue. "Because I knew there would still be work to do. I always had every confidence that Harry would win, but I also knew that his defeating the dark lord wouldn't really address the underlying problems in the Wizarding World."

"No, it wouldn't. But I suppose you were the only one who figured that out," Draco commented.

She shook her head sadly. "Unfortunately you're right. Everyone else figured that things would just fall into place. But if you've studied history at all, you would know that things were more likely to fall apart." She frowned then. "But I don't blame them for not thinking that way. It's hard to think ahead like that. The only ones on our side capable of doing so were Snape—and he was far too bitter to care, I think—and Dumbledore."

A soft snort sounded from across the table.

"Yes, Dumbledore. The man was a genius. I don't know anyone who willing to argue that point. But he…I can't say that I understand him. He was in a position so long ago to prevent so much misery but he stayed his hand. So many people died because he was so soft." She lifted her chin and met Draco's eyes. "I was determined not to make the same mistake."

She let that declaration sink in for a minute before taking up her tale again. "For the most part, I was right about what changes the end of the war would bring. Which was basically none at all. _Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose._ Oh—Shacklebolt did his absolute best to bring everyone to justice but that wasn't practical. For one, a sizeable amount of the wizards on the Wizengamot were sympathetic to the ideas behind the Death Eaters even though they abhorred the violent means taken. They weren't about to condemn so many pure-blood scions to rot away in Azkaban. We were only able to get the worst offenders convicted.

"But it was more than just the composition of the Wizengamot. Shacklebolt recognized early on that if he tried to go after everyone, then the fighting would break out anew. It was understandable. I wouldn't lay down my wand if that meant I would be sent straight to Azkaban. I doubt few would."

"Indeed," said Draco. "Back when we thought that the Ministry was going to bring charges against us all—well my friends and I were divided between fleeing the country or standing our ground and fighting till the bitter end."

"I thought as much." She didn't bother to ask which one he would have chosen. "Not everyone agreed with Kingsley, of course. There were plenty who wanted vengeance." She shuddered. "Let's just say that I spent many a night watching my compatriots get drunk to make sure that they didn't go out and do anything stupid."

His eyes widened at the implication of her words. Hermione sighed softly. "That delayed everything. I wasn't really expecting to play nursemaid for quite so long. But after things had calmed down a bit, I thought it was far past time to make my move."

"Hence the marriage law."

"Yes," she said. "I learned about the basic idea of it back during the war…it was a proposal from the last time that hadn't ever been fleshed out because people thought that it was simply too ludicrous. And it did have its faults. I must admit that I didn't like the idea of forcing people to marry. So I tinkered with it to take that part out. It was very important to ensure that everyone had a choice, that a witch could refuse any proposal she didn't like."

He raised an eyebrow. "And here I thought that there were other reasons why you fought for that provision."

She flushed then. "I never said that was the only reason. Just one of the most important. But anyway, I think you know most of the rest. Yes, I did plant that idea in your father's and his friends' minds. Then I planned that speech for Harry, telling my side it was our last chance. It went spectacularly well. And then after it was made clear that a fortune wasn't enough to woo a bride…well all I had to do then was to deliver that blackmail material to you."

"Ah yes. That was an opportunity too good to pass up, or so I thought at the time." He cradled his fingers together. "Aren't you going to ask me what I think about it now?"

Hermione bit her tongue on the insult that automatically came to it. Draco could be insufferable when he had the upper hand. She wasn't going to alert him to that flaw of his, not at the moment at least. "I thought that you were just going to go ahead and tell me," she said through gritted teeth.

He laughed in delight. "Darling, I do assure you that I'm not so arrogant to think that you would be interested in my every thought and deed," he drawled.

"And I'm not so prying that I would insist on knowing anything more than what you're willing to share," she replied.

"Good point. That does transition nicely into the next question I have for you, but first let me make it clear that I see this"—he waved his hand in a small circle—"as even more of an opportunity now that I realize just how cunning and clever you are."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"That you should, my dear. But I was wondering. You've made it clear what drove you to seek out power like you did but you never mentioned exactly what plans you have for it."

"Isn't it obvious? I would like a little bit of stability in the Wizarding World, thank you very much."

"No, dearest, that doesn't work as I imagine your idea of stability doesn't involve maintaining all the age-old traditions of the Wizarding World."

Frantically Hermione racked her brain, trying to think of some reason that he would buy into.

Then Draco flexed his fingers, cracking his knuckles. The resulting sound echoed through the silent room. "Really, darling! Is it that hard for you to admit that you wanted power to change the treatment of Muggle-borns?"

And she was surprised once more this evening, although she supposed by now she should have been expecting him to have figured that out as well. He had done an excellent job with all his prior guesses. She should have known that Draco could easily pinpoint just what was driving her ambitions all along.

It _was_ obvious, after all.

There was no point in denying it. A denial would only be a show of bad faith, something Draco would not appreciate despite it being his last name. So she tilted her chin up and met his stare head on. "That's exactly right," she said. "That's my ambition's end."

"I thought so," he said. An aura of smug satisfaction enveloped him. "And of course, I want in."

"You want in?" she repeated. She blinked her eyes. That did make sense. Draco was a Slytherin and more than that—he was a Malfoy. Of course he would want in on any plan that meant gaining control over the Wizarding World. That was simply how he was raised. But she didn't want to have this discussion right now. She needed more time, more time to plan how best to bring him over to her side. She thought that was entirely possible—Draco had changed so much—but the right strategy was vital.

But she didn't have that time. It was all her fault, really. She had severely underestimated Draco while overestimating how skillfully she had pulled off her plans. The worst part was that she had forewarning about her plans not being as well developed as they should have been. The whole Flint fiasco had practically foreshadowed this. It was easy to look back with hindsight and say that she should have reformulated her plans after that fateful evening. However that didn't help her now.

"Yes, I want in," he said. He shook his head in amusement. "What did you expect, dear? For me to simply nod my head and tell you to carry on."

"No, no I suppose I didn't at that," she answered in a small voice. She decided to let him take charge of the conversation for now so she could analyze how best to make her move.

"Good. I would have been disappointed if you did. Now let's get straight to the point."

"Yes, let's," she echoed quietly. There was no point in delaying the inevitable. She would have to learn what Draco wanted later, and now was as good as any time to get it over with.

"There are a couple of conditions I want in place," he stated. "Nothing you would disagree with, I hope. For one, there are to be no secrets between us. You will share every detail of your plan with me, and I will share with you what I think its weaknesses are." He paused and raised an eyebrow at her, a signal that he wanted an answer out of her.

"That seems…reasonable," she said. Indeed it was more than that. The events of the last couple months had taught Hermione that she wasn't infallible. There had been times when she had longed to share her plans with someone who could pick out its flaws, but there was no one she could trust. She wasn't entirely certain that Draco qualified as a trustworthy person, however, it wasn't as though she had much choice at this point.

"Seems reasonable? Well, you will find that I am eminently reasonable," Draco noted. "Very well then. Let's move on. The second condition I want is your agreement to work from the shadows. It is imperative that our family is kept safe from any…that we are not targets…." His brow furrowed, and a dark look appeared on his face as he struggled to put his thoughts into words.

"I see," she said. She could guess what ultimately was behind his second request. Lucius Malfoy's activities had dragged his whole family into the fray, much to the detriment of both his wife and his son. It was only logical that Draco would not want to make the same mistake. "What you mean to say is that no matter what happens, nobody should be able to trace the plot strings back to us."

"You always did have a flair for words. But yes, that is correct. If any plans ever backfire, I don't want us to suffer for that," he said. "And the best way to prevent that is to ensure that no one can connect us to anything." Hermione was about to speak up to mention that was in line with everything she had done so far, but he waved at her to be silent. "And I know, darling, that is part of your _modus operandi_. I do appreciate that fact. However your execution—"

"Leaves much to be desired," she finished for him, pulling a face. "I'm willing to agree to that, inasmuch as that is possible. It is, as you noted, how I tend to operate in the first place." So far Draco had been very reasonable with the limitations he was trying to set upon her plans. She couldn't argue much at all with them; they were both items that she thought were very pragmatic. And when it came to trying to control the world, one couldn't have enough pragmatism.

However, she knew that the easy part of this conversation would be over shortly. She couldn't think of anything else to cover before they got to the hard part—which would be the argument over the substance of her ambitions. Try as she might, Hermione just couldn't see Draco agreeing with her goals of ensuring that Muggle-borns were welcomed into the Wizarding World while integrating it with the Muggle world at the same time. That would go against everything he knew. She sighed. It seemed like an impossible task, but she had to salvage a victory for herself somehow.

"So what else?" she asked him. She wasn't eager to move on, but she didn't want to wait any longer.

"What else?" he repeated. "There is nothing else. That just about covers everything. Of course there's the basic requisite that we share power but that was sort of implied at the start, I think."

"Indeed." The fact that he had no other conditions meant that he hadn't guessed about every facet of Hermione's plan. She wanted to shout for joy, but she quickly schooled her expression into something more composed.

Not quickly enough however.

"It's funny that you should ask that," Draco said slowly. "No, that's not quite the word for it. You must have expected me to come up with some other conditions. What were they?" he demanded.

"I just expected you to have more," she offered extemporaneously. "It sounded like you had a whole list of them."

"Oh really?" He looked crossly at her. "Somehow I don't think that's it. Tell me what it is you're concerned about."

"Where do you want me to start?" She smiled wryly at him. She hoped that she would be able to defuse this situation. "There are many things that I'm worried about at the moment when it comes to the state of the Wizarding World. You probably already know of several of them."

"It's the ones I don't know of which concern me the most," Draco muttered. "But I guess I had better be more specific otherwise we'll be here all night. Tell me what is it that you don't want me to know."

"Frankly I don't see how we're going to be able to work together if you don't trust me," Hermione said. She was on the verge of panic. Things were going very badly for her, and nothing she tried was working. It was all too apparent that she was hiding something and that Draco was going to insist on her sharing that with him. She was running out of time to allay his suspicions.

"Darling, have you forgotten about my first condition already? That's the main reason why I decided to insist upon it."

"Oh yes. That." She gulped nervously. She looked at him briefly and then down and away towards the floor. "Well you see…I don't know how close you were to him but I do know that he was your Quidditch captain and all. But I may have provoked Flint's attack that night—"

He waved her silent. "I know," he said simply. "But that's not it, is it?"

It was almost uncanny the way he knew that she was still hiding something. Hermione bit her lip. She hated to think that she was that transparent.

"Please don't tell me that you've forgotten about my _reasonable_ request for there to be no secrets between us." His demeanor became icy suddenly. "Or that you have no intention of honoring that request. I'll be ever so disappointed."

It was very uncanny.

Almost as if he had a—

"You're cheating," Hermione snapped. "Sneakoscope?"

"Of course. The most sensitive that money can buy." He smiled then, showing all his teeth to her. "So tell me dearest. What is it that you're so desperate to hide from me?"

She closed her eyes. She should have known it all along. Everything about the house was attuned to Draco and his magic. Obviously he would have charms in place to ensure that he wasn't being deceived in any way.

She opened her eyes again. She straightened her back and then met his stare with determination. "Before I tell you—"

"No," he said shortly.

"No?"

"No, I won't agree to any limitations on my actions until I know the full extent of what you've been hiding from me."

She wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Somehow it seems like I've been the only one compromising all evening. It would be a show of good faith for you—"

"To promise to keep an open mind. Which I will. But anything more than that—no. Not until I hear what it is."

There was no way around it. Hermione didn't expect Draco to keep an open mind, but she was out of options. If she didn't tell him, then he would assume that she was going to refuse his terms. And that would lead to open conflict between them.

Back after they had first announced their betrothal, that wouldn't have bothered her overly much. She would have been more concerned by the fact that she hadn't planned for such a contingency. But now…but now her heart ached just thinking of what that would entail.

So she took a deep breath. "Your mistake was in assuming the limits to my ambitions," she said. She tilted her head and reconsidered her words. "Or maybe in not asking about my methods. But regardless of that, let me set you straight. I do intend on changing the Wizarding World and making it a better place, in more ways than one. One of those changes is for Muggle-borns to be treated equally and to feel as though this is their world too."

She paused and bit her lip. Gathering her courage, she continued. "But my experiences have taught me that Muggle-borns can never feel completely at home here so long as the Wizarding World is kept separate from the Muggle one."

Enlightenment dawned in his eyes. "You mean to overturn the Statute of Secrecy," he breathed.

"That thought did cross my mind. Frankly I can't see how I can let it stand if I am to accomplish all that I wish to."

"And I don't suppose it ever occurred to you that that statute was put in place for a reason?" His tone was sharp.

"I know it was," she replied. "But those reasons are no longer valid. Wait a minute," she added quickly, seeing that he was rising from his seat to shout her down. "Just hear me out. I do believe that you promised to keep an open mind."

"So I did," Draco said frostily. But he settled down back into his chair, looking rather peeved. "Let me assure you that that is the only thing stopping me from going on at length about what a bad idea that is. So go on. Do your best to change my mind."

"Thanks," she told him dryly. To herself, she admitted that she appreciated that he was honoring his word. That gave her hope that if she managed to concoct a compromise palatable to the both of them that he would honor that as well.

The hard part was finding such a compromise.

"Back when the Statute of Secrecy first went into effect, the world was different. Muggles were different. Anything they couldn't understand they blamed on magic—and that included virtually everything bad that happened to them. This led to witch hunts and the like, and eventually the Wizarding World decided it had had enough. It decided to hide from the Muggle world."

"I know that already. I would occasionally stay awake in history of magic, unlike others I could mention," said Draco with a petulant frown. "Can we skip ahead to the part where you explain why you believe we no longer need to worry about secrecy?"

It was the tip of her tongue to snap at him but she held back. She wanted to convince him after all. "Because time has marched on, and Muggles' way of thinking has evolved," she answered him smoothly. "They now know what causes diseases and natural disasters. Their science can explain such things, and so they would have no cause to blame the magical community for them." She smiled as a thought occurred to her. "Indeed some of the science they have is so advanced and complex that it is functionally equivalent to magic for ordinary Muggles."

"So I think if they learned about magic, they could accept it. It would be a natural progression for them. It's actually exciting to think about how magical theory could fill in the holes left by quantum physics and vice versa. That would benefit both our worlds. And Muggle-borns…they could feel at home in both of them. Not like now. Sometimes I feel like an unwanted bridge between the Wizarding World and the Muggle one. If magic was common knowledge to everyone…well then that would change everything."

"Obviously," he drawled. "Especially seeing how keeping magic a secret from Muggles is one of the basic tenets of our society. But do you honestly think that if we stop hiding, that the Muggles would all just accept us?"

She didn't even have to think about that response. "Yes," she replied.

"That seems a little too neat for me to believe," he stated. "Oh I am certain that there are Muggles out there who will be so excited to learn about magic…sort of like the Muggle equivalent of Arthur Weasley. But there will be those out there suspicious of us, just like there were in the old days. And from what little I know about Muggles…they're scarier these days. They couldn't hurt us back then. Any wizard worth his wand could survive being burned at stake. But their science—the same science which you so laud—their science has created new ways for them to attack us. Ways which aren't so easy for us to counter with spells."

"But!" she interjected. "Those would just be a tiny minority."

"And how do you know that?" he pressed her. She had no answer for him. "Even if you're right, history—recent history at that!—tells us that a fanatical minority can terrorize the majority. How do you know that won't happen?" Again she couldn't answer him. She had none prepared, and her brain was befuddled by the fact that he was using the example of the Death Eaters against her and her plans.

He continued on. "Putting myself into their shoes, I think I would be terrified if I learned about a secret society that had been living amongst us all along. And then to learn that they have special abilities that go far above my own—terrifying doesn't begin to describe how that would feel. And people who are scared like that tend not to be rational." He arched an eyebrow at her. "I for one have no wish to confront an angry mob, out for my blood."

"That wouldn't happen," she insisted. "You're just being paranoid."

"It's funny that you should say that. You have theories galore, Hermione, but not one shred of solid evidence that things would work out right. And given that you would be risking the safety of everyone in the Wizarding World, I would think that you would be more cautious than that." He shook his head from side to side.

"No," Draco said slowly. "If that's the crux of your argument, then no. I can see how it might be hard for Muggle-borns like yourself to leave the world they were born in behind. I get that. I would have trouble doing the same. But the risks…the risks are too great. I won't stand for it."

She bit her lip and clenched her fists in frustration. "I never thought I'd see the day where Draco Malfoy all but confesses that he's scared of Muggles," she said scathingly.

"I am," he replied. "One or two Muggles? I can handle that. But one or two million?" He shuddered violently. "Magic will only get you so far. And our ancestors realized that when the Statute of Secrecy was put into place. Muggles already outnumbered us back then, and the disparity in our numbers has only widened since then. It's a bad idea, Hermione. I don't think you've thought it through."

"No, I don't think you've thought it through. At least not with an open mind."

He stood then, rising from his seat in one, long elegant motion. "Then I do believe we're at an impasse here," he announced. "Let me be perfectly clear. When it comes to your objective of making certain that Muggle-borns are treated equally, I am willing to support that. But as for overturning the Statute of Secrecy and revealing the Wizarding World to the Muggles…no. Absolutely not."

"And I won't take no for an answer," she told him, her chin lifting up with determination.

"I suggest you reconsider your position. I think I have been very reasonable here tonight. But if you disagree…well, if you don't want to come to a compromise, then so be it." He locked his eyes upon hers. "But realize what that will mean to you. We will still get married. I have no intentions of releasing you from our betrothal. But rather than the peaceful and fruitful marriage I was looking forward to, there will be war. For I will be doing everything in my power to ensure that you fail in your ambitions." With his robes swirling about him, he turned around and started marching out of the room.

"Think about my offer," he called out as he passed by her. "I'll expect to hear a reply from you before this weekend is over."

And then he was gone.

With a weary sigh, she slouched back in her chair.

This night—which she had been so looking forward to—had gone horribly. It was enough to make a witch want to flee.

But no, she wasn't going to do that. She was never the sort of person who believed in running away from her problems, and she wasn't going to start now. She wasn't going to take off, leaving her fiancé behind as though she was scared of him. Because she wasn't. Though it would break her heart, Hermione knew very well that she could take him on and win if she had to.

An icy feeling surrounded her, and doubt rose up to roil her stomach. She looked around the room through half-shut eyes. The lights had apparently dimmed while the temperature had dropped precipitately. She could practically see her breath form icicles in the air.

Clearly the wards on the house didn't like that last thought of hers.

She closed her eyes and willed that thought away. It wasn't as though she wanted to fight him anyway, at least not seriously. She did enjoy their verbal sparring. It was exhilarating to have a battle of wits with someone who was actually armed for a change. But she didn't want to do anything to hurt him.

Hope welled up in her chest, warming her. Hermione knew that there had to be a way out, and she was confident that she was clever enough to suss it out. She simply had to take her time and think through all the different factors. That was something she should have done long ago, but she had just been too busy with everything else. She sighed deeply. She hated to admit it, but even she had her limits.

That was why the alliance Draco was offering was so tempting. She did need help, and he was the person best suited to her needs.

Her stomach grumbled, choosing then to remind her that she had hardly eaten anything during dinner, so engaging their conversation had been. She looked at her plate, which was still over half full. But no, she didn't want to eat. It wasn't as though she thought it was drugged. Draco wouldn't do that to her, not when he wanted her trust.

But even though she was positive that it was safe to eat, a full stomach would inevitably make her drowsy. And right now, the last thing she needed was a mind fogged over by the haze of sleep. She stood up from her chair. It would be best for her to leave the dining room as the food on the table was oh so very tempting.

She strolled out of the room so slowly that an observer might come to the conclusion that she didn't have any particular destination in mind. That couldn't be further from the truth. Hermione knew perfectly well where she wanted to go, and that was to the library. The library had always been her favorite thinking place ever since she was a little girl. It only made sense for her to retreat there now. Her pace was leisurely for she didn't want to get lost on her way there. She had only seen the library of this house once before, after all, and that had been very briefly.

Her memory didn't fail her, and less than ten minutes later, she was entering the library. She frowned to herself as she examined the tables and chairs. None of the chairs looked particularly comfortable. So she dragged one chair away from its table and towards the fireplace. She took out her wand, then paused.

She felt nothing.

Hermione nodded her head, satisfied that there were no spells set on the furniture or the house to stop her from waving her wand and transfiguring the wooden chair into a comfy armchair. And that was precisely what she did next. Smiling she sat down, reveling in how the soft padding cushioned her weary body.

Then she closed her eyes. She took several deep breaths, trying to relax and let her worries float away. She cleared her mind of all the sundry fears and tribulations that had bothered her throughout the day. It was only when she felt grounded that she opened her eyes again.

And that was when she started to truly think, focusing the entire force of her intellect.

It was time to figure out what to do with the offer her fiancé had made.

When looked upon objectively, the compromise he had proposed was exactly that. A compromise. Together they would hold the reins of power, and together they would guide the world from behind the scenes. He would give up those old beliefs about the superiority of pure-bloods while she would give up her long cherished wish to unite the magical and mundane worlds.

Of course now that she was thinking about things instead of just reacting, there was the question of whether or not Draco Malfoy could truly give up his old ideals. They had been instilled in him ever since he was a young wizard. She imagined that it must have happened in the most insidious way. His parents would have never stopped to lecture him about how Muggles and Muggle-borns were below him. Instead they would have taught him that by example—Lucius Malfoy looking down his nose at Muggle-borns in the Ministry or Narcissa Malfoy refusing to acknowledge any Muggle-borns who happened to cross her path. It was rather sad, but his world view must have been tainted by his parents long before he entered Hogwarts.

No, scratch that. It was a very sad thing.

And that gave her pause. She wondered how much could Draco possible change, seeing how he had been molded to despise anything and everything Muggle. It seemed a virtually impossible task.

But then there was the war.

She huffed slightly as she recalled how the Malfoys were treated during the war. At first, they had been fêted. Lucius Malfoy had been one of the most powerful Death Eaters around. But after the elder Malfoy had been sent to Azkaban, their situation changed drastically. Draco himself had been selected for what was a suicide mission, and none of their former friends had done anything to intervene for the poor boy. When Draco had ultimately failed—and really that outcome was never in doubt—things had only gone downhill from there.

War was a harsh teacher.

It made sense then. Draco's demands about her operating from the shadows made complete sense to her. He had suffered for the mistakes his father had made. It was only natural for him to be so vehement when it came to not repeating those mistakes. Draco Malfoy had every reason in the world to want to avoid the spotlight when it came to influencing the Wizarding World. That way he could never be a target.

It also made sense why he would be so willing to throw away all of his old beliefs. It wasn't as though they had done him any good. Although he had been the most vocal supporter of said beliefs back when they had started Hogwarts, that had earned him no mercy after his failure to kill Dumbledore. And when it came to agreeing to help Hermione change how Muggle-borns were treated, he had another very good reason for that.

Revenge.

Most, if not all, of Lucius Malfoy's associates still clung to their cherished beliefs of pure-blood superiority. She snorted as she thought of that pack of bitter old men. None of them had done a damn thing for Draco when he had been given his impossible task. None of them had interceded when he had failed, choosing to leave Draco to suffer at the whim of that violent madman they called master. Those few that weren't involved directly with the Death Eaters chose to ignore the entire Malfoy family in public after the war, treating the Malfoys as though they were tainted. It was more then enough to make anyone angry, to make anyone thirst for revenge.

And the best revenge out there was to methodically destroy everything those old men stood for.

That meant she could trust him.

Hermione heaved a sigh of relief. It felt as though a great weight had been lifted off of her chest, allowing her to breathe freely once more. Draco's motives for wanting to join her plot might not have been pure, but she could believe in them. That was the most important thing. While she liked to think that he had changed—and there was plenty of evidence that was true—she had to be absolutely certain that he wasn't about to revert to his old self and disrupt all of her plans from the inside. Now she knew he wouldn't do that. If she took him up on his offer, he would adhere to his word willingly. He would be a loyal ally.

No, he would be more than that. She smiled sadly. There was a spark between her and him, and there always had been. There was no one in school who had been able to push her buttons the way he did, but she gave as good as she got, having known instinctively that the worst thing she could do to him was ignore him.

They would be brilliant together.

The only problem was that she would have to give up part of her dream.

Hermione chewed her lower lip. It was very tempting to say yes to him though that meant she would have to abandon her plans to reveal the Wizarding World. After all she would be getting a loving husband in return who would help her formulate her future plans and carry them out as well. Having Draco at her side like that was more than a fair exchange. He was definitely worth it.

She just wasn't sure if she deserved that. She had asked others to make sacrifices for her cause. Her heart still wrung when she thought of what Katie had given up. It seemed to Hermione that she had to equal such sacrifices by refusing to yield to Draco's demands that she modify her ultimate plans.

She shuddered as she thought what that would entail. It was very lonely to think of a marriage that was a private war. She rubbed her hands together, trying to warm them from the chilly atmosphere that had settled over her. When she had first set out to marry Draco, she planned for a marriage of convenience. They had never been friendly in school, and so there was no reason to think that their marriage would be any different. She had prepared herself for a life lived alone like that. But now that she had tasted what a real marriage would be like, it was impossible to think of giving that up without being sad. Unbidden a single tear traced down her cheek.

Then a ghost of a memory flitted across her consciousness. She recalled the voice of her friend saying how she could not blame her for falling in love with Malfoy all those weeks ago. Hermione smiled sadly as she recalled that conversation she had with Katie and the way her friend knew back then how she was quickly losing her heart.

Truly the people she didn't deserve were _her friends_. Not Draco—she deserved him. He would make her life interesting, to say the least, and she would love every moment of it.

It wouldn't do anyone good for Hermione to turn her back on him.

Her sacrifice would be meaningless. She might be free in theory to pursue her plans in their entirety, but she would have a new and powerful rival to contend with—her own husband. And he would be especially dangerous because he already knew so much of her plans. If she wanted to accomplish anything, then she had best agree to compromise with him.

And it wasn't as though her plans were going all that well in the first place. Hermione tried her best to keep track of things, but there was just so much to do. That was how everything had spiraled out of control, leading Draco to discover her plans in the first place. If she had had a better grasp on everything, then that would have never happened.

But now that it did, she would be doing no one a favor by denying him. Yes, that meant curtailing her ambitions. She could live with that. Just getting the Wizarding World to change and treat Muggle-borns as equals was task enough for one lifetime. And if she could get that done, that would set an excellent foundation for future generations to eventually undo the Statute of Secrecy and welcome Muggles to the Wizarding World.

That thought cheered her. She got up out of her seat. It was clear to her what her decision would be. She was going to happily agree to all of Draco's conditions. There was a bounce in her step as she made her way out of the library.

Then it occurred to her that just as she had questions about how loyal he would be, he might also have similar doubts about her.

Just as quickly she thought of the perfect way to put an end to those doubts once and for all. It was quite possibly the most brilliant thought she had all evening.

A smirk on her lips, Hermione proceeded through the hallways towards Draco's bedroom. It was time to set her new plan into motion.

****

**Author's note:** That's it for now. I think this chapter has gone on for long enough. I do hope you've enjoyed it. Sorry for the wait—it is taking me longer to finish these last few chapters. The next chapter hopefully will be out before the end of the year, but if it takes me longer to get it up to scratch then it will be longer than that.

My thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter: gitgit, Dixiecharmer, starrlightt, mlui, Aastha Panit, Dame Brittany, DCoD, Chanteur d'ombre, nonnonentity, kazfeist, mkhtl, RaineyDays, megsamadhi, DodgerMcClure, waffenmac, DaOnLeeSam, misssweetsweet, HazelFromBehind, WinterhartZahneelCalina, hermioneism, Ceralyn, CityStroke, Lea1286, ebbe04, HinataMorningstar, dracosnumber1girl, Ryoko05, padfootly, , sabotageme, Tandy, Irmorena, 0WN, smaginn, mirarie, and pussycat06. I'm like a broken record at time, but I really enjoy reading what you all have to say. I wish I could be more eloquent, but I don't know how to put it better than that. ^__^


	30. Inseparable Hearts

**Ambition's End: Inseparable Hearts  
**

**Disclaimer:** None of these characters are mine as they all belong to JKR.

****

Draco could hardly sleep.

He was lying in his bed, absolutely delighted by the turn of events. The night had gone according to plan. It had been exhilarating, the way he had strung Hermione along like a cat toying with its prey. A smug grin stretched across his face as he recalled how he had kept raising her hopes only to dash them a second later. In the end, he had her so discombobulated that she was no where near as cool and collected as she normally was.

Which was entirely to his benefit. He had grossly miscalculated the extent of her ambitions. He had never guessed that she intended to undo the Statute of Secrecy, which sheltered all things magical from the endless curiosity of Muggles. He shuddered to think of what a disaster that would be, if she somehow managed to get her way.

Thankfully he had been able to find out about that portion of her plan when he could still do something about it. Her demeanor—the way her eyes kept shifting about—had been his first clue that she was hiding something big, and his suspicions were confirmed soon after by a warning buzz from his Sneakoscope.

The depths of her ambitions still awed him, however. Whatever her faults, Hermione thought and plotted on a grand scale. Draco admired that, but he was also enough of a pragmatist to realize that meant that her future plans were likely to be harder to pull off due to their complexity. He rather imagined that they would need to be modified after she revealed them to him.

_If she did_, he amended mentally. There was always the possibility that she would not be willing to give in to his requests. She had seemed amenable to them, at least until the very end when he had all but demanded she stop with her silly notion to overturn the Statute of Secrecy. Hermione must have been thinking with her heart rather than with her head when she came up with that particular plot because her reasoning had been very flawed.

It was more proof, in Draco's opinion, of just why she needed him.

It was too bad that he couldn't be certain that she would see things the same way.

He hoped that by giving her time, Hermione would be able to think her way through everything objectively. She would then be able to see how advantageous it would be to join forces with him. But then there was also the fact that she had come up with such an outrageous notion in the first place. That meant that there was the possibility that she would just throw his generous offer back in his face in a fit of pique.

While he didn't want it to come to that, he had prepared for that eventuality. That was the reason why Draco hadn't revealed to Hermione that it had been he who had taken out Merlose. He had also held back telling her about the Department of Mysteries' oracles functioned. If worse came to worst, he would be able to use that against her.

He grimaced at the ceiling. He had never been very good at waiting. He wanted to know _now_ what her decision would be. Of course there were plenty of reasons for giving her some time. Draco didn't want her to feel coerced, after all, for then she would likely start seeking a way out of her obligations to him. But at the same time, he didn't really want to wait any longer than he had to. He never did. Waiting set him on edge as he hated not being able to do anything.

He took a deep breath and tried to calm down, pushing those thoughts aside. He had chosen to give Hermione time to think about his offer, and he would have to live with the consequences of that decision. Which meant he very likely wouldn't know her ultimate decision until Sunday evening. Draco still remembered how she had made him wait for her acceptance of his proposal. He wouldn't put it past Hermione to take her time because she was aware of how impatient he was.

After all, it was what he would do.

Draco closed his eyes. He was determined to get some sleep, if for no other reason as it would be the easiest way to pass the time. When he was awake, it was all too easy for his mind to wander and start planning what to do once Hermione accepted, even though that would be getting ahead of himself. Still the thought of her acceptance was so distracting. It made him hard to think about having that much power in his grasp.

That only made sleep that much more difficult.

Determined to chase those thoughts out of his head, he started to count crups in his head the way he used to as a boy the night before his birthday. But just like then, it didn't work. Some things never changed.

All of a sudden, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up on end. He was not alone. Instinct took over, and his hand began to inch towards the wand he kept on the table beside his bed. But before he could draw his wand, Hermione's low chuckle resounded throughout the room. "So sorry to bother you, dearest," his fiancée all but purred. "But I have something to share with you."

Draco immediately snapped to attention, sitting straight up in his bed. He peered through the shadows that draped his room. It didn't take long for him to locate the source of her voice. Hermione was standing next to the door, looking as smug as a cat that had just had an entire carton of cream. Her hair had sprung to life, surrounding her like a fiery aura. The expression in her eyes was absolutely incredible, a fierce mix of lust and longing and something else that he couldn't put a name to.

She looked nothing like the retiring bookworm he had known back in school. No, she resembled a siren out of legend, and he could easily imagine her luring him to her with whispered promises of all that he had ever desired.

He was Slytherin enough to know that he would have to be careful. He would have to make certain that any promise she made bound her.

"Well?" she asked, the sound of her voice startling him out of his thoughts. She lifted her hand to twirl at one of the honey brown curls framing her face. "You're not the slightest bit curious about what I've decided?"

He stretched lazily, taking his time so he could formulate his response. "Do you really need me to answer that, darling?" he drawled.

She pouted then, and unbidden his attention were drawn to her lips that were tightly pursed together. Her mouth relaxed back into a small frown, and her pink tongue darted out to lick her red lips. His cock twitched, and he just barely stifled a groan. _The little minx is doing this on purpose_, he thought. Still that did nothing to abate his reaction, and his heart rate continued to skyrocket. Granger was nothing if not adept at playing the sex kitten. She had probably seduced many a wizard before him. He doubted that there were very few men who could tell her no.

Certainly it was taking all his self-control not to drag her into bed and start pounding into her like there was no tomorrow.

That thought was all too tempting. Draco had always been attracted to intelligence—and seeing Hermione in front of him, so comfortable with her sexuality…if the stakes weren't so high, he just might fuck the game so he could get on with fucking her.

She sighed dramatically, thankfully distracting him from that particular train of thought. "It's impossible to get a straight answer out of you," she said, her tone one of mock accusation. "Tell me. Do you like playing hard to get?" Her lips quirked up into a smirk.

Draco couldn't help himself. He had the perfect response to that jibe. "One of us has to, darling," he stated coolly.

She laughed then—a low sultry laugh that somehow made him want her more. "Draco," she said, "you have no idea how happy I am to hear you admit that you're hard."

Then she pounced.

She practically leapt across the room and into his bed. Before he could even blink, she climbed into his lap, her legs straddling his. Her lips crashed down on to his, and he eagerly rose up to meet them in a kiss. A shiver of pleasure ran down his spine as they dueled, battling for dominance. She moaned breathlessly, clearly enjoying herself as much as he was. And then she started to move, tantalizing him by slowly grinding up against him.

It would be all so easy to lose control. Every touch was a temptation, and he didn't want to hold himself back any more. Especially because he could tell that she wanted it too. The spark that had always existed between the two of them had flared to life so strongly that it would be almost impossible for either of them to back away.

But he couldn't let himself go. Not without knowing her decision. Instinct told him that once he took that final step—that once he slept with Hermione—that would be it. He wouldn't be able to act with the ruthlessness needed if she decided to defy him. And so he had to know now before this went any farther.

Summoning a reserve of will he didn't know he had, Draco dragged his lips away from hers. He shifted his weight and before she could stop him, he flipped them over, so that he was on top of her.

She cocked an eyebrow up at him. "Oh my. I would have never thought you to be so…traditional," she murmured in that new sultry tone of hers.

"So sorry to disappoint you darling—"

"I'd hardly say that I'm disappointed," she protested.

He continued on as though she hadn't interrupted him. "But I find that as it turns out, I would like to know what your decision is."

"And wizards are fond of saying that witches change their minds at the drop of a hat." Hermione smiled cheekily up at him.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I never said that I wasn't interested in hearing your answer, just that you shouldn't need me to answer that," he pointed out, a satisfied smirk coming to rest upon his lips as her brow furrowed in concentration. He loved this. They were perfect for one another. She would keep him on his toes, and in return, he would do the same for her. Together they would rule the world—assuming she was willing to accept his offer. And even then, they would have to learn to trust each other. But somehow, despite the fact that he had yet to hear her answer, Draco knew that they would be able to work things out.

"You're right," she finally said after a long moment of silence. "You never did say that you didn't want to know my decision. Though you never did give me a straight answer either way. That's typical, I suppose." She flared her nostrils, sniffing dismissively, and he could tell that she was peeved that she was wrong and he was right.

"Forgive me for thinking that you of all people would be used to parsing words carefully," he replied. Then he paused, and silence filled the room once more. He decided to prod her, not wanting to wait a minute more. "And don't think that I haven't noticed that you have yet to divulge your answer to me."

Hermione wrinkled her nose and rolled her eyes. "Oh hush! I'm getting there. I was just trying to get over not being completely right first!"

It was on the tip of Draco's tongue to point out that she had been completely wrong, but he didn't. That would only prolong matters, and it was getting increasingly difficult for him to hold himself back, particularly with how adorable she looked when she was exasperated. "Well?" he asked.

"Patience isn't one of your virtues, I see." She sighed, her breath blowing her fringe up towards him. "But yes."

"Yes?"

She nodded her head. "That's right."

He looked crossly down at her. While that was the answer he had wanted to hear, the way she had said it didn't assure him at all. "Do you care to elaborate?"

"Actually I don't for there are things I'd rather do. Namely you." She smiled slowly up at him, throwing him a wink. Then she sighed mockingly. "But I suppose I'd better. In regards to that proposal you made earlier this evening…well I've thought it over and decided to tell you that I accept your terms."

His ardor instantly cooled, Draco narrowed his eyes, not happy with her choice of words. "Is that so?" he asked, his tone deceptively mild.

"It is." She reached out a hand to cup his face. He jerked away from her. "What's wrong, darling? Don't you trust me?"

He glared at her in response. She had answered him in ambiguous terms, and she had to know that he suspected her intentions. He was a Slytherin after all.

"I see," she said. "Well then. Is there anything I can say to assuage your fears?"

He frowned. He didn't have a ready answer for that. Draco wanted to trust Hermione—he wanted desperately to believe that she would abide by the compromise he had suggested because it was beneficial to the both of them. However, he couldn't. He had been the victim of so many false promises that he just couldn't trust words alone. But if they were to truly be partners, then he had to trust her. He growled in frustration, upset that he couldn't find a way out of that stalemate.

"I thought so," she said, her voice full of satisfaction. He looked at her sharply and wondered what she could be plotting now. "Well then, I have an idea," she declared. "How about I offer you an Unbreakable Vow that I'll keep to our bargain? And of course, I would expect you to do the same."

Draco turned the idea around inside his head. It had potential. That much was certain. An Unbreakable Vow would solve the problem nicely. However, it created a problem all its own. "And who would we trust to be our bonder?" he asked. "I suppose we could Obliviate the—"

Before he could finish, Hermione laid a finger across his lips to silence him. "Oh no. This is where my idea gets _good_." She grinned in glee. "It occurred to me that a marriage vow backed by magic could be considered the ultimate Unbreakable Vow. What if when I plight my troth to thee, I do so using words of your own choosing?"

Draco inhaled sharply. She was right. A marriage vow in its purest form was an Unbreakable Vow, sworn to by husband and wife. And it wasn't unheard of for a wizard and a witch to write their own vows. It was a simple solution and elegant too.

He liked it. A lot.

However, their wedding was still two weeks away. That was plenty of time for Hermione to find some way to get out of any tentative agreement they made tonight. He needed something that would ensure she would not do so.

She sighed then, distracting him from his thoughts. "I'm not going to double cross you," she told him in a subdued tone of voice. She looked up at him and met his eyes before continuing. "I know that's what you're thinking, that that's what you're afraid of. But I won't do that to you. We'll work well together, and you were right—I could use your help. You could even say I need your help."

She broke off, looking down and away. "And what's more…I don't want to fight with you," she said in a very small voice. She looked at him again, and to his surprise, her eyes were full of vulnerability. "That shouldn't come as a surprise to you. After all, you did everything you could to make me love you. And guess what? I do."

Her confession hung in the air, spinning between them. Its verity was simply unquestionable, overriding his first instinct which was to question her declaration of love because its timing was just so convenient. The way she regarded him with those big, brown eyes of her so open and raw, yearning writ large across her face as she anxiously waited for his reaction—never had he seen her emotions so exposed.

And that was when he knew what that other emotion was behind her eyes, mixed amongst her longing and lust. It was love.

She loved him. He couldn't deny it. He should have felt ecstatic, exhilarated beyond belief that his plan to make her fall in love with him had succeeded. But instead, his heart was pounding and his hands were trembling and he was nervous beyond belief. For just as he couldn't deny the fact that she loved him, he also could no longer lie to himself that he loved her.

It was a revelation that rocked the foundations of his world. Somewhere along the way, he had fallen for Hermione and hard. He loved her intelligence and her wit, her cunning and her shrewdness. She could be breathtakingly beautiful when she put her mind to it, but her mind was the real treasure. She was the perfect counterpoint to him, and he loved her for that.

He only hoped she didn't know that.

For he didn't want her to have such power over him. He didn't want anyone to have that sort of power over him. But the instant after that thought crossed his mind, Draco knew it was a lost cause. Hermione had to at least suspect that he had feelings for him. He almost groaned aloud, thinking of his behavior at her birthday party, how he had been unable to take his eyes off of her the entire time and how he had shadowed her for practically the entire evening. No, Hermione was too intelligent of a witch not to have got some inkling that night of his feelings.

"I see," he said haltingly, not knowing what to say next. He supposed that now would be a grand time to declare his love for her as well, but he wasn't quite ready to say those words aloud.

"Do you?" she asked. She peered intently at him, and he was forced to look away. He fancied that she had been trying to figure out whether or not he knew how he felt. Draco almost snorted. All of his plans were for naught. Yes, he had pulled one over Hermione Granger that evening, but she had got him back and good.

Her soft voice distracted him from his thoughts once more. "The thought of us together…it's not that horrible, is it?"

"No, not at all. Sounds rather wonderful, in fact." And it did. He liked the idea of being able to confide in her without worrying that she would one day betray him. Her idea to make their marriage vows magically binding would allow trust to flourish between the two of them. That in turn would allow them to work closely together so that they could accomplish each and every one of their goals. A sense of giddiness pervaded him as he realized just how wonderful the thought of them together was. They would be the most formidable power couple the Wizarding World had ever seen.

"You are brilliant," he told her. Leaning forward, he laid a soft kiss on the edge of her nose. Then he placed a hand behind her head, guiding it down while he lavished her neck with his mouth, thoroughly aroused by the beautiful and intelligent witch beneath him. He covered her mouth with his, eager to taste her. She moaned in response and threaded her hands through his hair and down to his shoulders, pressing him ever closer to her.

For now that it was crystal clear that their hearts and minds were already united, there was little sense in their waiting to join their bodies together as well, especially not when they each wanted the other so bad.

****

Servants were a wonderful thing, Hermione decided. While she remained firmly opposed to how so many wizards abused House elves, she could definitely appreciate having servants around so that one could linger in bed all day. She wasn't prone to laziness—quite the opposite in fact—but that made the occasional lie in that much more pleasant for her.

Though to describe this particular morning as pleasant was really an understatement at best and an insult to her wizard at worst. She had thoroughly enjoyed his attentions throughout last evening and this morning for he truly was a skilled lover. She smiled and licked her lips, thinking that she had given as good as she got.

Hermione pulled herself into a sitting position. She stretched languidly, extending her arms above her head, reveling in how euphoric she felt. A baritone chuckle sounded from behind her. "I must be losing my touch if you want to get up already," Draco said.

She rolled her eyes. "You bring a new meaning to the word insatiable," she said, teasing him lightly. She twisted herself around so that she faced him. "And pouting won't help you with me, dear."

"You have a heart of stone," he grumbled.

"Hardly." She reached out a hand to ruffle his hair. That was something Hermione had been longing to do, and she loved how soft it felt.

"Don't do that," he complained and swatted her hand away.

"You have nice hair," she told him.

"Compliments will get you no where with me, my dear." He wagged his eyebrows at her. "However I can think of some other things that will."

"I am certain you can. However it's getting late. We can't possibly—" She gasped as suddenly Draco pulled her towards him and then pinned her on the bed.

"Darling, I fear that you've been working yourself too hard for too long," he said, his finger idly stroking her cheek. She looked at him sharply, wondering if he was teasing her, but his mien was completely serious. "Everyone needs a bit of a break now and then."

She huffed indignantly. "I know that. But there's so much to do now."

He silenced her with a lingering kiss, one that she couldn't help but meet. She glared at him when they finally broke apart.

"Don't think that you've won," she stated.

"I would never dream of it, dearest," he whispered into her ear. "Trust me. That was only the start of my campaign."

"Oh?"

"Indeed." He smiled down at her and shook his head. "Though I am rather disappointed that I have to work so hard to convince my fiancée to linger awhile longer in bed with me."

"It's not that I don't want to," she protested. He pressed a finger against her lips to silence her.

"I don't suppose the phrase 'work-life balance' has any meaning for you?" His eyes glinted with amusement.

She glowered at him scornfully. "That is nothing but rubbish made up by witches with no drive or ambition."

"Somehow I'm not surprised to hear you say that," he drawled. "But to get back to my original point, taking a day off now and then to spend some quality time with your loving partner—"

"Make that insatiable," she muttered.

"You say that as though it's a bad thing." He sighed dramatically. "Oh well. I guess there's nothing to left to do but to prove to you that there's nothing that sharpens the mind like a good shag."

He proceeded to do just that.

****

The spread presented on the dining table for brunch on Sunday morning was generous and large and now more or less decimated. When Hermione had first seen all the food on the table, she had thought that most of it would go to waste for she didn't see how they could make a dent in it, despite all of their activities earlier during the weekend. To her endless bemusement, however, Draco's appetite had tripled in size. It was enthralling to watch how much he could put away while talking. She rather liked the fact that he never talked while chewing though. His manners were nothing if not impeccable.

She was going to have to lean on him eventually to teach her best friends a thing or two. She wondered who would protest more—Draco or Harry and Ron. Probably Draco, she decided, because he would argue that Weasleys were by definition lost causes. He would go on to elaborate in that dry tone of his on how it would be a complete waste of time to try and teach them manners.

But thinking of wasting time made Hermione focus on the present once more. She had very much enjoyed herself yesterday, and she did feel rather rejuvenated. However, she didn't want to wait any longer to discuss with Draco what he knew about both Givens and Merlose. Perhaps he didn't know any more than she did; perhaps not even that. But even if that were the case, she still wanted to have his input on the matter. She cleared her throat to get his attention. It was inelegant, but it got the job done.

He smiled lazily at her. "Something on your mind, my dear?" he asked. "No. Don't bother answering that. Something always is. It was a silly question, I know."

She clucked her tongue at him. "And to think that some witches call you charming," she said with a shake of her head.

"Yes well that makes up for you thinking that I'm merely annoying." He sighed dramatically, earning an eye roll from her.

"Stop that," she said. "Enough joking around. I'm trying to be serious here."

"Yes dear," he replied mildly.

Hermione looked at him sharply. "I mean it."

"I know, dear." Though his tone was contrite, she knew that he was teasing her.

"You are absolutely impossible, you do know that right?"

"That's part of my charm."

She had to smile at that for it was true. There was something very charming about the way he bantered with her almost mockingly, refusing to behave. He could be irritating—indeed she believed she would have been a tad miffed if she wasn't in such a good mood to start with this morning—but life with him would never be boring. He was sharp and witty, and he was going to keep her on her toes. She wouldn't have to worry about his stupidity dragging her down.

That being said, she wasn't about to let him win. Not now and not ever.

"If you're quite done," she said, raising an eyebrow at him, "I was thinking that we should get on with business. Tomorrow is Monday, after all, and I want a plan in place just in case Merlose happens to show up."

Just like that, a serious mien settled over him. "I don't believe you'll have to worry about that. From what I understand, he'll be remaining in St. Mungo's until well after our wedding."

Hermione looked askance at him. Draco was entirely too confident on that point. Clearly he knew something that she did not. "Oh really?" she asked.

"Yes." He smirked at her.

She fought the urge to roll her eyes again as that was obviously the response he was looking for. "Care to elaborate?" His smirk only got bigger so she interrupted him before he could make another smart remark. "Let me rephrase that," she said. "What is it that you know that I should?"

He huffed in disappointment. "You're taking all of the fun out of this," he complained.

She looked archly at him. "Somehow your idea of fun isn't what I thought it would be. I thought you would refer other sorts of games but…." She shrugged her shoulders eloquently. "We can continue with the verbal foreplay if that's really what peaks your interest, darling."

"Touché." He weaved his hands together and then cracked his knuckles. "I must concede that point. Very well then. Let's get down to business." He picked up his cup and took a drink of his tea. "Where to start?" he mused aloud.

"From the beginning?" she suggested.

He waved her suggestion aside. "That would take far too long. I would like to get back to bed eventually."

"Oh really? I would've never guessed," Hermione couldn't resist saying.

"That's awfully unobservant of you," he shot back. "But in any event, probably telling you about my meeting with Merlose the other day is the best spot to start." Draco recounted his meeting with her boss and the revelations the old man had revealed about the Department of Mysteries' oracles. Hermione was shocked to learn how Merlose had melded Muggle science with magic to create the oracles. She had never thought the old man had it in him, thinking that he was pure-blood snot who had learned to hide his prejudices over the years.

Obviously she had been wrong about that.

Hermione sighed softly. It was really too bad. The idea of combining magic and science was such an intriguing one, and she would have loved to learn more about Merlose's theories from the wizard himself. But it was clear from what the old man had told Draco that he was dead set against Hermione her, seeing her as an obstacle to his ultimate goal, whatever that was. She supposed that she was very lucky that, like her, Merlose had underestimated Draco. The old man hadn't taken into consideration the possibility that Draco would realize that he was being set up.

_Nor did Merlose ever think that Draco would favor my side over his._ She snorted to herself. _That was very foolish of him. True, I had worked on getting Draco to fall for me but even then I think his natural inclination would lie towards me. Why choose the side of an old man when you can try manipulating your fiancée instead?_

"Perhaps cursing him like I did wasn't the best idea," said Draco, wrapping up his tale. "But I really couldn't think of any alternatives at the time."

"But you did Obliviate him right?" she asked.

Draco looked affronted. "Yes, of course. What do you take me for, a fool?"

"No, never that, my love. Forgive me. I'm used to having to clean up after others' messes," she told him, meeting his eyes with hers. He accepted her apology, gracefully inclining his head. Truth be told, Hermione couldn't think of a better way to handle the situation. While she didn't like the fact that they still had Merlose to deal with, she really didn't like the idea of murdering the old wizard in cold blood. She was very happy that once again Draco hadn't been able to end an old man's life. She would have thought less of Draco if he had done that.

"I actually cast a couple of Obliviates on the old man to be thorough," Draco stated. "But I don't think that—"

"Will be the last we see of Merlose," she finished his thought for him. Unfortunately she found herself agreeing with his assessment. "I think you're right. He's too crafty a character not to have some sort of contingency plan in case everything went pear shaped for him."

"Like a pensieve or a journal of some sort in case a memory charm was used on him," Draco said, thinking out loud. "He probably can't access it in St. Mungo's but once he gets out...something tells me he'll be out to get us both."

"Not if he doesn't find whatever notes he left behind." She tapped her finger against the table, wrinkling her forehead as she plotted away. "It's a matter of being able to intercept those," she said. "If we can do that, then there's no reason why we can't make an ally out of him."

Draco cocked his head to one side as he considered her suggestion. "He would be useful to have on our side for his oracles alone."

Hermione gasped. She glanced over at Draco, and she could tell that the same thought had occurred to him. So she said what they were both thinking out loud. "He may have hidden his notes in the oracles themselves."

Her fiancée grimaced at those words. "But how? A hidden compartment perhaps?" Then he shook his head. "If that's the case, then we're probably safe. Merlose's memory will be full of holes even after the mediwizards get done with him. There's no way he could remember where he hid a pensieve or the like."

"He could have coded something into the oracles themselves," said Hermione slowly. "It makes sense when you think about it. Merlose is clever enough to realize that if anything went wrong in any of his dealings then he would be subjected to a powerful memory charm—well assuming he made it out alive, of course. But in any case, if he knew there was a possibility that he couldn't count on his memory, then he could have programmed what he needed to know into the oracles, counting on the fact that he would eventually be returned to them. And once he was present before them, their coding would ensure he would leave with what he needed to know about his enemies."

"Coding?" Draco repeated. He frowned at her. "You're not making much sense here," he complained.

"Sorry," she said contritely. She had forgotten that Draco didn't know anything about how computers functioned, much less how they were programmed. She bit her lip, thinking of what was the best way to explain them to a pure-blood who had no concept of Muggle technology. "At their heart," she said, "a computer is essentially a mechanical abacus. However, it's capable of much more complex calculations."

He regarded her through half-closed eyes. "You mean mathematics? Merlose was babbling about that. Said that it was essentially Arithmancy without any magic." He snorted to himself, and she could tell that didn't make much sense to him.

"Yes," she said. "I know it sounds useless, but trust me, Muggles are absolutely brilliant when it comes to using mathematics to describe the physical world. But leaving that aside for now, while a computer has great processing power, it has no creative engine. It has to be told what to do, what equations to run, what problems to solve. Muggles do this by creating code."

"Code?" Draco blinked, looking rather lost at all the new terminology she was throwing his way.

"Yes code," she repeated. "Think of it as a set of instructions. That's basically what it is. Once a computer has been programmed with a piece of code, it will carry out the instructions contained therein." Hermione knew that she was really simplifying everything, but she didn't want to get into the intricacies of computer programming. That would only serve to further confuse Draco.

"So if Merlose has coded the oracles to refresh his memory in case anything went wrong," he said deliberately, "then there isn't anything we can do to stop them? Outside of destroying them? Could you recode them maybe?"

Hermione blanched at that thought.

"I take it that's a 'no' then," said Draco.

"It's not impossible," said Hermione. "Just not very likely seeing how I'd have to figure out so many things, such as what language he used, how he inputted everything. I don't think I'll be able to sort it out before he gets released."

"Of course destroying the oracles comes with its own problems. Not the least of which is how to get past the Ministry's security to do such a thing."

"And it's such a waste," added Hermione.

"There's that too," he agreed. A look of concentration settled on his face. "How about this? What if I work on keeping Merlose in St. Mungo's for as long as possible while you try to figure out how best to deal with the oracles? If you could fix them so they work for us somehow good, but otherwise we need to get rid of them."

"That we do." She paused momentarily to run over his suggestion in her head. Then she nodded decisively. It wasn't much of a plan. In fact, she didn't even want to call it that. But unfortunately they didn't have more time to come up with something better—and even if they did they would need more information first. And she was likely to discover such information in her search to neutralize the oracles any way.

"All right," she said. "That seems like the best we can do for now."

Draco chuckled softly. "And it kills you to admit that, doesn't it?"

"No, I just wish we could be more—"

"Thorough," he finished for her. "Trust me, darling, I know how you feel. But we have to walk before we can run."

"That's what they say," she muttered sulkily. "But I suppose what your plan lacks in substance, it makes up for it in flexibility." She perked up at that thought.

"Indeed it does." He began to absently play with her hair. "And now that that's settled, perhaps we can…." He smirked at her, leaving no doubt as to what was on his mind.

Unfortunately for his aspirations, Hermione wasn't quite finished yet. "Maybe later," she told him. "You've forgotten about our other problem."

"What? The fact that you're still clinging stubbornly to your philosophy of all work and no play? Really darling. I assure you that your mind will be so much more refreshed if you just—"

"Give into my baser instinct and shag you for the rest of the day?" Hermione shook her head. "Honestly. I would've thought you would need more time to recover after yesterday."

"Is that a challenge?" he asked. He straightened up in his seat. She could tell by the gleam in his eye that it didn't really matter what her answer was. Draco would deem her last remark to be a challenge regardless. "If so, I assure you that I am very much up to it."

"Of that I have no doubt," she told him softly.

He snorted. "That's not the impression I got."

She waved aside his grumblings. "Leaving that aside for now, I was referring to what we're going to do about Givens."

"Givens?" he repeated. "What does that fool have to do with us?"

Hermione almost bit off her tongue as she remembered she hadn't shared any of her suspicions about the head Auror with Draco. "That's right," she said, snapping her fingers. "You wouldn't know, would you?"

"Obviously," he replied dryly.

She flushed momentarily but then quickly refocused. She took a small drink from her glass to wet her throat before proceeding. "Givens, you see, is the one responsible for the spate of murders that have been happening," she said.

He immediately stiffened. She had thought he had been serious before when they were discussing Merlose, but that was nothing compared to how he was now. She was reminded anew just how formidable the wizard setting next to her could be when he put his mind to it. Draco adopted a pleasant face when in public, and everyone knew what a coward he had been when in school. That made it easy to underestimate him—and what was more, he knew how to use such mistakes to his advantage.

He certainly had with her.

But Hermione wasn't about to chide herself over that for in the end, everything had worked out for her. She was in a much stronger position now that she had a partner to collaborate with.

Draco twitched his nose before responding to her revelation. "Do you have any evidence?"

"If I did, he wouldn't still be on the loose." She bit her tongue, holding back the 'obviously' she so dearly wanted to throw in.

"Then how did you reach that conclusion?" he pressed her.

"Originally? It was because of Flint's death. It was just so suspicious, you know."

"You mean because of the timing?" Draco asked. He raised an eyebrow. "There are those who think that you have a hand in his death, seeing how Flint died shortly after attacking you."

"I know. I've heard those rumors as well. But it's not just that," she insisted. "It's how he leapt upon the chance to take you into custody and how he was so difficult when we can to get you and Theo out of custody. It's how he insisted on taking a bunch of green Aurors with him to escort Flint, Aurors so inexperienced that none of them quite knew what was happening until everything was over. And there's more. I spoke with Harry, you see, and Givens has been making life very difficult for the Aurors what with the long hours they have to work. How Harry and the best new recruits were all sent away on training in the middle of all this, when there has already been a shortage of Aurors. We both agree that Givens is somehow behind all the murders."

"Forgive me for pointing this out, but the fact that Potter agrees with your theory doesn't exactly inspire confidence in me. He has been wrong before."

Hermione winced. She couldn't deny that Draco was right about that; Harry was the sort to leap to conclusions. "I know," she said. "But this time is different."

"Why? Because you agree with him?"

She rolled her eyes. She hadn't thought that it was going to be this hard to convince Draco that Givens was guilty. But then again she didn't have any hard evidence, and so perhaps he wanted to keep an open mind about things. Hermione could see the value in that; once you settled on a particular theory, you tended to focus on items that corroborated your theory while ignoring those that cut against it.

"Yes," she said slowly. "I like to think that I think things through better than Harry. And I haven't mentioned yet that conversation I had with Givens that night Montague tried to attack Harry and I. He kept insisting that you were behind the attacks on me, saying how it was no coincidence that both Flint and Montague were on the Slytherin Quidditch team with you. Givens made it a point to say that if I trusted him, he could take care of whatever hold you have over me."

"I see." Draco folded his hands underneath his chin. "I had nothing to do with those attacks, dearest—"

"I know that," she assured him.

"Thank you, darling." He inclined his head towards her. "But to make such accusations of me…." He waved his hand dismissively. "There are just as many fools who think you're busy murdering pure-bloods left and right as there are fools who think that I'm out to kill you." He cast his eyes towards the ceiling. "An idea which is on its face ridiculous because if you died, that would only further weaken my family's reputation. But that's how people are. Logic often doesn't apply to how they think."

"I hope that doesn't apply to me. Look! Let's go back to Flint's death, which was the real start of everything. Givens had the ability to kill Flint—you can't be head Auror if your wand skills are shabby. He also had access to Flint, and most importantly he had motive."

"Motive?" Draco scoffed. "Darling, I hate to break it to you but there are many people out there who dislike Slytherins as they see us all as former Death Eaters. You'll have to do better than that."

"It goes deeper than that with Givens. His daughter was killed during the Battle of Hogwarts. Her murderer—presumably a Death Eater—was never found."

That gave Draco pause. "His only daughter?" he repeated weakly.

She nodded her head. "Yes. It isn't common knowledge. Her name was one of those never released out of respect for the family. I know that I have no hard evidence. But his attitude, his demeanor whenever I've spoken to him…he despises Death Eaters more than most. He was so bitterly disappointed when I was able to pry you and Theo out of his grasp. I expect that's why he acted so quickly to kill Flint; he didn't want to—"

"Lose the last Death Eater's offspring that he had caught that night," Draco completed her sentence for her. "Blast! That is too much of a coincidence. What better revenge for his daughter's death than to slowly slaughter all remaining children of known Death Eaters?" He exhaled sharply. "All right then. I guess I'm willing to accept your theory that Givens has had a hand in all the murders. Revenge is a very powerful motive. But even so…I think that there has to be someone else in on the plot. How else could he have escaped notice for so long? If it is him, he has got to have had some help."

Hermione pursed her lips together. Draco had made a good point. She had often thought the same herself. "Maybe," she said. "But then again it could just be dumb luck. Stranger things have happened."

"It's possible, I guess," he said slowly, doubt coloring his voice. "If Givens has been running the Aurors down like you said, then he could've done everything on his own. I think we need to proceed cautiously, keeping in mind that it is likely Givens has a partner we don't know about."

"I won't argue with that. Acting rashly against Givens may leave us exposed to any hidden accomplices of his," agreed Hermione.

Draco grimaced, frown lines appearing over his eyebrows. "So his motive is revenge, huh?" He drummed his fingertips against the dining table, lost in thought. "I would bet that his allies would likely have that same goal in mind. Which means if we want to find them, we'd best start searching amongst those who lost someone during the war."

Hermione bit her lip, not liking the implications that flowed from that simple deduction. She had been searching for Dennis Creevey for awhile now, hoping to talk to him about what he might have seen that day in Diagon Alley. It was hard to think of him as Givens' heretofore unknown accomplice as she remembered the sweet and earnest boy he had been at Hogwarts. She preferred to think that Dennis wasn't involved with Givens at all. But talking everything out with Draco made it obvious that she may have underestimated what the younger Creevey was capable of.

"All right. Clearly you've thought of something you don't like." She looked up at her fiancé to see his silver eyes brimming with irritation. "Care to share what that is?"

Hermione winced. Usually she was better at controlling her expression than that, but she had let her guard down. _Not that that's a bad thing_, she noted to herself. _If this is going to work, I'm going to have to trust Draco. Which means telling him everything that Dennis has done. Oh well. Two heads are better than one, right? Maybe he'll have additional insights as to what might have happened that day. I don't think he'll do anything drastic. No, he wouldn't. He's too shrewd. He's not like Harry and Ron, who always act before thinking._

She decided to respond to him with a question of her own. "Do you remember that day we were together in Diagon Alley? I mean, that day when Higgs was discovered."

He nodded his head gravely.

"Do you remember anything out of the ordinary happening?"

"Do you mean aside from the large crowd that had gathered around the Leaky Cauldron?" He quirked a silver eyebrow up, smirking the whole time. "I assume you're not referring to the murder itself, though that is also something that I would consider out of the ordinary."

Hermione huffed indignantly. That was so like Draco. He couldn't help but be difficult, even when they were working together. "Oh that's right. I had completely forgotten that being cheeky is your _modus operandi_. So sorry. I'll try not to give you any openings next time."

"Cheeky?" he echoed. A stunned look crossed his face. "That hardly sounds complimentary. Witty perhaps, or even snarky, but not cheeky. _Never_ that," he declared grandly with a firm shake of his head.

"Definitely cheeky. But enough. I guess I was being rather vague."

"Rather vague? You're really a master of the understatement, aren't you?"

"It's awfully hard to get through any sort of explanation with the way you like to comment on everything, you know."

"Perhaps, my dear, perhaps. But at least you know that I'm actually listening to you. That has to be nice for a change."

"I'm still trying to figure out if that outweighs having to deal with your ever so witty commentary. But before we can get sidetracked again—"

"That wasn't my fault, dearest," he claimed.

Hermione didn't bother to grace that with a reply, instead continuing on as if she had never been interrupted. "What I was referring to in my original question was whether or not you remember running into Dennis Creevey."

Draco opened his mouth as if to say something, then stopped. Comprehension dawned on his face. "You think Creevey is in league with Givens?" he said. She could see the wheels turn in his head as he considered that idea. She remained silent, waiting for his appraisal. Hermione felt that he could be more objective than she could be in this matter.

Finally after what seemed like an eternity had passed, Draco spoke once more. "I don't think so," he said slowly. "Yeah I can see the two of them having a connection, and I can see Creevey wanting revenge too. But for him to actually harm someone, much less kill someone…no that doesn't make sense. I don't think Creevey has that in him."

"Neither do I," Hermione stated quietly. "But then I have trouble remembering Dennis as anything but that small boy who always followed around his older brother. Seeing how his beloved older brother died at Hogwarts—"

"I know. That sort of thing can really change a person, can really affect how they act and behave. I wouldn't be surprised to learn that he's organizing a secret rebellion of Muggle-borns to break off from the rest of the Wizarding World and go inhabit an island somewhere or some rot like that. That's the sort of thing he would do. Givens is an entirely different matter. Don't forget he was an Auror before and during the war. I'm willing to be that he's killed a few wizards in the line of duty before."

"So it wouldn't be all that large of a step for him to decide to take matters into his own hands and mete out justice on his terms." Draco's reasoning resonated with her. It made sense that Dennis wouldn't be involved with the murders because he was just never that type of person. She let go of the breath she had been holding in, feeling relieved that Draco agreed with her assessment of Dennis. That meant she hadn't made a horrible mistake because of her own inherent biases.

The sound of a tapping foot brought her back to the present. She realized that Draco was looking at her expectantly, waiting to her what she thought of his reasoning. "I'm not going to disagree with you about that. It makes sense to me," she told him.

"Good." He bestowed a genuine smile upon her, his lips curling up and his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I happen to find that I like it when we agree," he added.

She found herself returning his smile at that remark. "That's something else we can agree on." His smile only grew wider. Somehow Hermione couldn't help but think that he had never looked more handsome than he did now. A light blush covered her cheeks. She bit her lip and shook her head to rid it of such a cheesy thought, but to no avail. While her fiancé always looked good enough to eat when he was serious and brooding, when he was happy and smiling, her stomach did flips and her heart rate skyrocketed and it was nigh impossible for her to think sensibly.

But then she supposed she could be forgiven for being silly like that seeing how she was in love with him and all.

"A knut for your thoughts, my love," he drawled slyly, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

Her blush only deepened. There was no way she was going to share with him just how flighty her last few thoughts had been. "Only a knut? I'll have you know that my thoughts are worth more than that."

"Probably true. I suppose I was being rather stingy, particularly as knowing what made you blush like a schoolgirl would be priceless." He laughed out loud, and Hermione could feel her entire face burning. She looked down and away, dismayed by the fact that she had to be entirely red by now.

He leaned towards so to tuck a finger under her chin. He then lifted it up so that their eyes met. "Something tells me, however, that I won't be able to convince you to divulge your thoughts. Oh well. I guess I'll have to live with that disappointment. You're absolutely adorable when you're flustered, you know."

"I wasn't flustered," she protested.

"Then what would you call it?" he asked, looking thoroughly amused by the turn their conversation had taken.

Unfortunately she couldn't think of an appropriate response. "I'd call it something else entirely," she said.

Draco's smile slowly morphed into a smug smirk. "Have I ever told you how enticing you are when you're in your bossy bookworm mode?"

Hermione was quick to take advantage of the opening he had left her. "That's funny. I never took you for the submissive type." She grinned as he started coughing. In between coughs, he glared daggers at her but it was worth it. Draco's face was too pale to hide any sort of blush, and she was happy to have finally turned the tables.

And she wasn't done yet.

"I think you're absolutely adorable when you're flustered," she told him with a mischievous grin.

Draco glared at her as she tossed his words back in his face. "I bet you think you're clever, don't you?"

"No, darling. I _know_ I'm clever." She looked up at him through her lashes, all but daring him to deny that truth. She didn't think he could.

And she was right.

"I guess I can't deny that," he said slowly.

"Not without looking like a fool."

Draco ignored her comment and went on. "After all you did pick me to marry." He preened openly, a smirk stretching across his lips.

"That I did. What more proof do you need?" Before he could come up with yet another cheeky remark, Hermione leapt into action.

Besides it had been quite some time since she had last kissed him. And she couldn't think of a better way to wipe that smirk off his lips. She only meant for it to last an instant, but before she could step back away from him, he pulled her towards him. Caught off guard, she wound up stumbling on to his lap. She gazed up at him mutely, and the smirk she thought she had taken care of was back in place.

Hermione was no fool. She knew how this was going to end. She closed her eyes as his lips came crashing down on her mouth once more before moving down to graze on her neck. Her breath hitched as his hands skimmed against her thighs as he pushed up her robes.

They weren't going to get anything else done, but that was all right. She had been a good girl, resisting his earlier advances to ensure they were somewhat productive today. She had more than earned the right to enjoy herself for the rest of the day, and that was exactly what she was going to do.

****

**Author's note:** It has been forever since I last updated this fic, hasn't it? My apologies for that. I ran into two problems, the first being that I wasn't quite happy with how this chapter turned out. I'm still not entirely pleased with it, but such is life. The second problem was my trying to figure out how to end this in a couple chapters. I know how the fic is going to end, but I've come to the conclusion that I need more space than just two chapters. So there will probably wind up being 35 parts, instead of the 32 I had thought would do.

Anyway, it's late but I hope you still like the chapter. Please review and let me know what you think of it and how it can be improved. My thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter: desmc, WinterhartZahneelCalina, misssweetsweet, Dixiecharmer, kazfeist, mlui, Chanteur d'ombre, starrlightt, LeSinner, smaginn, lei, here fishy fishy, mkhtl, karaburnes, waffenmac, Ceralyn, Bella67x, celticscorpion, DCoD, inadaze22, DodgerMcClure, RaineyDays, Lady Katherine2, ebbe04, Tandy, dracosnumber1girl, Tauvian, Lea1286, Ryoko05, Dreameronherknees, wintercoldness, Hopelessly Pessimistic, Eva1983, A Thousand Beautiful Things, supercanuck, Nukenin, Arafel2, Marmalade Fever, Tableturn, diagonally, crimsoneyes44, crissadda, and kippie.


	31. Eye to Eye

**Ambition's End: Eye To Eye**

**Disclaimer:** None of these characters are mine as they all belong to JKR.

****

Hermione strolled to her office Monday morning, ignoring the stares of those around her. She knew that she wasn't fooling anyone. After all they weren't staring at her because she was coming in to work late. All of the Unspeakables were able to set their own hours, and everyone knew she took advantage of that fact.

No, it was all too apparent how she had spent her weekend with how languid her movements were and how relaxed her carriage was. She had little doubt that by mid-morning half the Ministry would know just how well she got along with her fiancé. She couldn't help but smirk at that thought. A little over two months ago, she had wanted to fool everyone into believing that she adored Draco and he her. They had both played their parts so well that it was now no act.

Still tongues would be set to wagging, and she would have to deal with the gossip created. No doubt there would be those speculating the worst about her and spreading those lies around. She supposed she should be used to it by now, seeing how she had been the target of malicious rumors ever since she was fifteen. But she had had her fill of knowing looks and probing questions this morning. Hermione had already been stopped at least a dozen times on her way to her office. She shook her head in disbelief. If she wasn't so concerned with her public image after the beating it had taken in recent weeks, she would have unleashed her sharp tongue on all the fools who couldn't restrain their curiosity. She sighed softly. Hopefully now that she was in the Department of Mysteries proper, she wouldn't be stopped again. Her co-workers tended to be more subtle when they wanted to gather information.

Alas it was not to be. Hermione's hand was on her doorknob when a voice sounded form behind her. "You look awfully happy today," noted Padma in a droll tone.

Hermione winced briefly. Of course she would run into Padma this morning. She liked the Ravenclaw well enough, but the other witch was simply too curious at times. Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath before turning around to face her co-worker. "That obvious?" Hermione replied in a self-deprecating manner.

"I didn't know you were trying to hide that fact," Padma returned. "I'm guessing that your joy has nothing to do with the fact that Merlose is still bedridden at St. Mungo's."

"He is?"

"You mean you hadn't heard?" Padma looked askance at her, and it was clear that she was wondering if Hermione was playing dumb.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders and allowed a satisfied grin to appear on her face. "I didn't really pay attention to the news at all this weekend. Let's just say I was otherwise occupied."

The other witch looked over at Hermione appraisingly. "The entire weekend? Really? That good?"

"Yes, really. Makes me wonder why I was ever fool enough to want to wait for the wedding."

"Indeed. Given your fiancé's reputation, I would have pounced long before now," Padma stated baldly. "It gives credence to all those stories about his prowess back in school, seeing how you arrived looking like a cat who had got into the cream."

Hermione tilted her head to one side. "That's one way of putting it," she said smugly, arching up one eyebrow. She laughed wickedly as the very faintest of blushes appeared on the Ravenclaw's face, enjoying her co-workers embarrassment. "So sorry. You didn't need to hear that, did you?"

"No, no, I didn't," Padma replied, still flustered.

Hermione smiled apologetically. "Yes, well, sorry about getting carried away there. Now if you excuse me. I really must be going. You wouldn't believe how far much work I have to get done before the wedding, especially if we're to have any sort of honeymoon." The other witch accepted that excuse at face value, and Hermione made good her escape and retreated into her office.

Once inside, Hermione wasted no time and got to work straight away. She hadn't been lying at all to Padma. She did have a bit of research that she wanted to complete before the wedding, although not all of it was work related.

Indeed the most pressing of the issues she wanted to work on was on the matter of Givens. She sighed deeply. The part that made it difficult was the fact that she didn't want to kill the man. Merlin knew that Givens deserved such a fate, for killing wizards whose primary fault was belonging to a family who had chosen the wrong side during the war. Hermione wrinkled her brow. It was an oddly chilling sort of revenge—Givens didn't kill Death Eaters themselves, instead choosing to take away their children the way his own child had been taken away from him. _It's a parent's worst nightmare, I suppose, to have a monster go after your children because of the sins you committed_, she thought.

But such gloomy thoughts weren't going to get her anywhere. They had already decided that killing Givens in cold blood simply wasn't an option. _Just as well_, she thought, nodding her head. _As it would probably wind up having unintended consequences that would cost us down the road. No it's best simply to reveal Givens for the criminal he is. Unfortunately he's not stupid. We're not going to be able to convince him to confess that easily. And then there's the matter of arranging for witnesses that he doesn't know about._

She tapped her quill against her desk. It was more likely for Givens to get caught in the act rather than confess. She frowned and made a mental note to talk to her contact at the _Daily Prophet_. While Hermione didn't like dealing directly with her contact, she really did need to track Dennis Creevey down. If her hunch was right and Dennis had seen something, then maybe they could bring Givens to justice sooner rather than later.

_But in case that doesn't work...I had better come up with another plan, _she decided. _We're going to have to trap him somehow._ She smiled suddenly, then pulled out a sheet of parchment and then another.

Hermione hadn't forgotten how someone had been intercepting her owls. There weren't too many in the Ministry who had the power to order such a thing. Indeed she believed only Shacklebolt or Givens could give such an order, and she was willing to bet it was Givens. That being said, she wanted confirmation of that fact before assuming she could feed Givens false information through her owls. She also wanted to know approximately how long it took for her owl to be intercepted—she needed to know if Givens made it a priority to read her owls right away or if they just sat there until the Auror got around to looking at them.

A quick note to her fiancé would allow her to kill two birds with one stone. The only question was what to write. She thought it over for several long minutes before a burst of inspiration hit her. She could write to him to let him know how she had been responding to her co-workers' probing questions all morning long. That way he could make sure not to say anything that would contradict the story she had been using. Of course, it wasn't likely that Draco was getting the same amount of questions that she was. In fact Hermione simply couldn't see any of his employees having the gall to question their boss' good mood, much less Draco lowering himself to answer any such question.

But that was neither here nor there. It couldn't hurt to be too cautious, and besides she had other reasons for writing to him. Hermione bent her head done over her desk and began composing her letter. She grinned wickedly to herself as she described in lurid detail just how much she had enjoyed herself and how she regretted ever deciding to wait till the wedding.

Once she finished, she read over her words with a critical eye. Anyone reading this letter would be convinced that Hermione was a lovesick witch, which was exactly what she wanted. Happy with her handiwork, she folded the letter and placed it in an envelope, addressing it to Draco. Then she sealed it with a special charm, using sympathetic magic so the name of whoever first opened the letter would be written on the other sheet of parchment she had pulled out. After the spell was cast, Hermione carefully tucked away the currently blank piece of parchment inside her desk.

She then rose to her feet. Although there was always work for her to do, this was simply too good of an opportunity to pass up. Hermione was going to send the letter right away and take note of the time. After she saw the owl off, she would make her way to Draco's office to deliver her message in person.

Besides it had been awhile since she had last seen him.

****

Draco glanced up from his desk as the door to his office swung open. In strode his fiancée with her head held high. Without batting an eye, he noted, "That's strange. Usually my secretary's very good about giving me a warning before I have visitors."

Hermione sniffed haughtily in response and tossed her hair about. Then she shot him a look that said for him to stop playing the fool.

"I see," he chided mildly. "You didn't even bother to stop to give your name, now did you?" He shook his head, thoroughly amused. He could just see Hermione walking past his secretary while she just squawked uselessly. His witch only followed others' orders when it suited her. While she would never admit it, in that she was very much like a Slytherin.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "Honestly! What would be the point of stopping? If your secretary doesn't know who I am, then she has either been living under a rock for the past few months or she has designs upon you."

"Jealous much?"

That earned him another eye roll and head shake. "Hardly. I just didn't appreciate how she acted as though she practically owned you."

"I see. I guess I should thank you for ridding her of such a foolish notion," he said with equanimity. Inwardly Draco gloated for he could tell that his calm demeanor was beginning to grate on Hermione's nerves.

"Oh Merlin, no, I don't think I did that. She's far too silly a witch to listen to sense." The smirk Hermione sent his way rivaled that of any Slytherin. "So I got rid of her instead."

"You did what?" He rose from his seat. Draco couldn't believe that Hermione would have the gall to do something like that. While his secretary could be annoyingly protective of him, that was part of the reason why he kept her around. He needed someone who could be an effective gatekeeper; otherwise he would never be able to get any work done because of the constant interruptions. He ground his teeth together in a vain attempt to rein in his temper. "Well?" he asked, prodding her for a response.

Hermione arched up one elegant eyebrow, then smirked once more. "Finally! A reaction. I was beginning to wonder what it would take to make you lose your cool."

Her insouciance only fueled his anger. "Excuse me? Do you mean to say that you fired my secretary just to see if I'd lose my temper?"

"Don't be ridiculous, darling. I only said that I did to see what your response would be." She sighed mockingly. "Though perhaps I should have. Seeing how enraged you became…it makes me wonder if you really do feel something for the chit."

Draco clenched his jaw, unhappy that he had fallen for such a simple trick. He should have known that Hermione was trying to get the upper hand by deliberately provoking him after he had teased her. He was used to playing such games. He decided to switch tacks, thinking that blunt honesty might be the best way of handling his cunning witch for now. "Must everything be a test, my dear?" he asked ever so sweetly.

She tilted her head to one side. He could tell from the set of her eyes that she was seriously considering his question. "No, not everything. But seeing how your secretary did her best to stop me from coming in unannounced…it makes me wonder what you could possibly be hiding from me."

So that was it. Understanding dawned upon him. Despite the agreement they had reached just this past weekend, his witch was still cautious when it came to trusting him fully. It was only natural. The two of them had spent their Hogwarts years at odds with one another, with each expecting the worst from the other. There was simply no way that one weekend together could overcome all of that history. Being wary and suspicious of him was practically ingrained within Hermione. While her formidable mind knew that he was trustworthy and wouldn't do anything to hurt her, it would take time for her to trust him instinctively instead of suspecting him.

_Of course, it might speed things along if you admit that you love her_, an errant voice inside his head chided him. Draco held back a grimace. He didn't see the point in telling his fiancée that. She had to know how he felt. She was too clever not to. And because she knew that he loved her, there was no point in him in confirming his weakness to her. _That's right. There's no purpose in repeating to her what she already knows. It would just be a waste of time, really. Time much better spent reassuring her_. With that thought firmly in mind, he cleared his throat as he searched for the right words to say.

He spread his hands out in the air before him. "It was an oversight, dearest," he told her. "Before we came to our understanding, I had quite a bit to hide from you. And so I have orders to my secretary that she wasn't to let you in my office without announcing your arrival to me first. I meant to tell her that those orders no longer stood, that you could come and go as you please but…." Draco shrugged his shoulders and smiled wryly. "It's been rather busy this morning, and so I'm afraid it slipped my mind. Trust me, Hermione, it won't happen again."

His witch merely raised one eyebrow in response before giving him a long look. It appeared as though she was debating with herself whether to believe him or not. "All right," she said through pursed lips. "I guess I can believe that."

"Thank you," he said earnestly, looking her in the eye. "And I am sorry that I didn't think of that sooner. I should have taken care of that right away but I—"

"Enough, enough already," she said. She rolled her eyes. "I already accepted your explanation, so there's no need to carry on so. Perhaps I did leap to conclusions out of—"

"Jealousy?"

She glared at him before continuing. "I was going to say a well-developed sense of paranoia. It's not exactly the easiest thing to turn off, but it's dead useful at times."

"Is that so?" A small smile crossed his lips. It was rather endearing how she couldn't come out and admit that she was jealous. He knew better than to try and get her to say as much, and so he decided to change the topic. "So what brought you here anyway?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows at her. "You just couldn't bear to go the whole day without seeing me?"

That only earned him a shake of her head. "I didn't come here to shag you, if that's what you're trying to imply."

"I wasn't trying to imply anything. I just couldn't think of any other reason for you to come." He winked at her lasciviously.

"Pity. And here I thought you had more imagination than that." Draco sputtered and was going to offer to prove his creativity to her, but then she turned a dazzling smile on him. "Ah well. I will just have to learn with such disappointment. All things considered, it's not a bad idea."

Then she pounced, all but leaping into his lap and fusing her lips to his.

The first thought that ran through his mind was that she was very eager for someone who insisted she didn't make a special visit just to shag him. The second thought he had was that it didn't really matter why she protested so much; this was a precious opportunity that should not be wasted. A shiver of excitement ran down his spine as he remembered a favorite fantasy of his—shagging his fiancée on his desk for lunch, leaving her wrecked for the rest of the day, making it apparent to all who saw her just who she belonged to. A smirk tugged at his lips, and he decided to make that fantasy a reality. It would be easy enough for him to hoist her on to his desk. All he had to do was get the proper leverage. His hands skimmed over her thighs and came to rest on her delectable arse. He couldn't help but give a squeeze before putting his plan into motion.

Unfortunately for his plan, Hermione chose that exact same motion to break away from their heated kiss.

"That reminds me," she said breathlessly, "of the reason why I came over here."

"Can't we talk about that later, darling?" he asked, trailing kisses up her neck. He nudged against her center. "Seeing how something rather important has come up."

"Mmm…tempting but no. As I'm afraid if I let you continue I'll forget all about telling you and then where would we be?"

"Lying on my desk, satiated and content with the world?"

Then she did something that cooled his ardor instantly.

She laughed at him.

Just like that, his arousal fizzled out as the lovely witch on his lap had a good chuckle at his expense. Draco pouted, thoroughly put out at how badly his plan of seduction had been derailed.

"You're certainly persistent," she said after finally composing herself. "And you probably could convince me if what I came over to talk about wasn't so important."

"Probably?" He crossed his arms and huffed indignantly.

"Most certainly," she amended. Hermione looked over at him. "Oh come now, Draco. Don't be like that. I wasn't laughing at you. It was just so…endearing how single-minded you were."

He didn't have a reply for that. Instead he settled for pouting some more over the fact he wasn't getting his way.

"But in any event, it occurred to me earlier today that I ought to see you to make sure that we get our stories straight. It wouldn't do for us to make such a simple mistake right after we joined forces."

"One second. Back up. You've lost me. Get our stories straight?" He was genuinely confused. "Stories about what?"

She huffed impatiently. "You can't mean to say that no one has—" She stopped herself, then grimaced. "Well I suppose they wouldn't, would they? After all I can't imagine just anyone walking up to you and…."

Draco tuned out her rambling as it made little sense to him. He was on the verge of interrupting her monologue more than once but each time he decided it was best to bite his tongue, thinking that any interruption would only prolong how long it would take her to get to the point.

"—And honestly, everyone here is your employee and it probably would be dangerous for them to make any inquires into your personal life." Hermione twitched her nose, something that Draco found absolutely adorable. "There are times that I wish my co-workers would do the same for me. But no matter." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, and Draco knew that she was finally going to enlighten him as to what she had been going on about for the last several minutes.

Or so he thought. When his fiancée opened her mouth again, she immediately started to dissemble.

Really it was most unlike her.

"So you know that witches and wizards…they're not exactly alike, right?"

"Yes I am aware of the basic differences between the genders," he replied dryly. "I thought I proved that last night. If you need another demonstration though—" A wicked smile crossed his face as he reached out to pull her towards him.

"Stop that," she said, slapping his hands away. "Have I ever told you how terribly distracting you are?"

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"In this case, no, as I would prefer not to lose my train of thought." She chewed her lower lip, and he could see her plotting her next few words. He resisted the urge to sigh. Draco was running out of patience—fast.

"What I meant when I said that witches and wizards are different…well, I wasn't referring to the …anatomical differences. I was thinking more of…oh blast! I'm not being very clear on the subject at all, am I?"

He didn't think that needed an answer. Evidently she thought the same as she forged on.

"All right. Let's try this again. When I showed up at the Ministry…well I wasn't fooling anyone. I'm certain that everyone knew after laying eyes on me what we had…how we had—"

"Spent the weekend?" he finished for her as he understood what she was trying to get at.

"Yes, exactly. My fault, really. I should've done a better job of not being so obvious."

"Darling, I could hardly blame you for that," he declared. "After all, it's hard to hide the fact that your weekend was so…earth-shattering, so to speak." He grinned, pleased at his choice of words.

"Ah yes. I do love how I can always count on your sense of humility. In any case, that did put me in a bit of a conundrum this morning."

"How so?"

She shot him a look of disbelief. "Well it didn't exactly fit in at all that well with the picture that we've presented to the world of us being a happy and close couple."

He continued to look at her dumbly. He didn't have the slightest idea what she was talking about.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh honestly! Don't you think that it might raise a few eyebrows as people have learned that we've just slept together?"

He blinked. "No, not really. I don't see how that's anyone's business but our own."

"In a perfect world, yes. But trust me. The gossips at the Ministry will chew over that tidbit of information and come up with half a dozen conspiracy theories before the day's done."

"And most people will ignore all of them," Draco replied smoothly. "I don't see what the big deal is. It might cause tongues to wag for a few days, but eventually they'll move on. It's not that strange that a happily engaged couple would eventually seal the deal. I doubt most people will think anything beyond that." He shrugged his shoulders.

"And if anyone has the gall to ask you about it to your face?"

"I'll figure it out then," he said. "Why worry about it now?"

"Maybe because I might've been confronted on the issue and said something about it?"

"Oh." He hadn't considered that. "And let me guess. When you say 'might have been', you mean that it's already happened."

"That's right. I gave an excuse to one of my co-workers, and it occurred to me that I had best let you know what I had said, in case you got questioned as well." She shook her head and grimaced. "Silly of me. I should've known that while your employees might wonder, none of them would dare even broach that subject."

"So what did you say?" he asked.

"Oh. I just told her that I had a rather tiring weekend. When prodded, I said that we had been waiting for the wedding, which contributed to some tensions between us. Eventually the dam broke, and well that's that."

"You actually said all that?" he asked, mildly horrified. Draco was used to people being curious about his life. He was a Malfoy after all, and he had long grown accustomed to being the center of attention. However, he had never really confirmed or denied any of the rumors flying around about him. Instead his customary response was an icy glare, and it had always served him well.

"No, I didn't _say _all that. Just implied most of it, really, But that's what I thought the most logical cover story would be."

"I see." The story did make sense, but Draco did see one problem with her plan. "And it never occurred to you that you could just send an owl?" he asked.

"What? Are you saying that you don't like me dropping by without warning now?" she shot back.

Draco sighed and decided to drop the matter. He didn't want her to get the notion that he didn't want to see her stuck in her pretty little head. "Of course not, darling," he said. He brushed his lips against her ear, kissing it softly before continuing. "You're always very much welcome to visit me, whenever you like."

"Is that so?" She looked at him archly, and that was all the invitation he needed. In one swift motion, he lifted her up and onto his desk. He cocked his head and smiled, taking a minute to admire his lovely witch before proceeding.

Unfortunately for him, it was not to be. Just as he was tipping his head towards hers, he was interrupted once more. Only this time by a bloody owl landing on the back of his chair.

"What the hell!" Draco cursed out loud, infuriated at the idiot who had sent him the bleeding owl. Startled the owl flitted back into the air and away from the angry wizard with the envelope still clasped in its talons, leaving Draco to lunge awkwardly at the damn bird in an attempt to get it. "Bloody thing should be put out of its misery," he muttered to himself, "seeing how it's so witless that it can't even drop the blasted message."

"Well that was faster than I expected," his fiancée said from behind him.

He looked at her crossly as he reached for his wand. "Excuse me?" he said. "We're not done yet!"

She laughed once more and leapt from her perch on his desk. "But I'm afraid we are. It pains me to admit this but it does appear that time really does fly when you're having fun." She pointed on the clock on his wall. "And it appears that my lunch break is just about over. So I guess we'll have to continue this later tonight."

"But—"

"But nothing. Don't worry, darling, you can make it up to me later." She waved at him, and before he could do anything to stop her, she trotted out of his office.

"Damn it," he swore. He couldn't believe how everything could fall apart in just a matter of seconds. Pointing his wand at the owl, he released the strongest stunning spell in his arsenal. The bird fell to the ground with a satisfying thump.

"Finally," he muttered as he stalked across the room. He removed the envelope from the owl's talons and then revived the bird. "Go on! Shoo!" he told it, motioning with his hands for it to leave his office. When it didn't immediately leave, he added, "Before I decide to make certain you can't ever ruin another afternoon for me." The bird ruffled its feathers once before taking flight and exiting out the window.

"All right then. Next point of business." He paused in his tracks and grimaced. It was probably a sign of madness, the way he kept talking to himself, but he found that it helped him keep his focus. He couldn't remember the last time he was this upset. He had every intention of taking revenge upon whoever had sent him that damn owl. Plopping down in his seat, he turned his attention to the envelope. He frowned at the handwriting on it.

It looked remarkably like his fiancée's.

"Can't be hers," he murmured. "She was just here. Why she send an owl when she was coming over herself?" He broke open the seal and read the letter inside, then started swearing again.

He jumped out of his seat and started pacing across the room, too wound up to sit still. "What the hell was that all about!" he all but shouted. "Why did she bother to come if she had sent an owl? For that matter, why did she pretend that she hadn't thought about sending one instead?" He frowned as he realized something else that was off. Draco picked up the letter and perused it again.

The letter sounded nothing like her. It was all gushing nonsense, and she came off as a lovesick fool. There was no need for such artifice in an owl to him—but there was if it was intended to be read by someone else.

Which was exactly the case.

"So that's what she meant about it being faster than she expected," Draco mumbled. "She must have thought there would be more of a delay. So whoever intercepted the owl must have done so right away." He snorted. "Not that there are many candidates for the culprit, seeing how there are precious few in the Ministry who could arrange such a thing. Probably only two, in fact. Seeing how I doubt Shacklebolt would do such a thing to Hermione that makes it rather obvious who's to blame."

He nodded to himself, certain that he had hit upon the reason she had come straight over to see him after sending him the owl. However, that only opened up another question. Why didn't Hermione share with him the reason for her visit? Her excuse of her lunch being over rang false to his ears. She had to know that it was a bad lie to feed him. She was simply too cunning not to.

So in other words, she wanted him to know that she had willfully withheld the true purpose of her visit from him. She wanted to upset him.

_She wanted to get back at me. She was rather livid when she first came in._ He shook his head. _I guess she was jealous, though she was loath to admit as much. _He frowned. That could be a problem. Hermione didn't trust him completely still, and so she held back information from him. _No, that's not good at all. How are we going to be able to work together if she's keeping secrets?_

He sighed. Of course, Hermione was probably keeping secrets from him because she believed that he was keeping secrets from her. He really should have remembered to inform his secretary this morning to allow his fiancée free and unfettered access to his office. The fact that he didn't—well, he was honest enough with himself to admit that if he were in her shoes he would have leapt to the same conclusions.

But perhaps the wedding vows would help a bit there. Draco thought about it for a moment—it might help if they included something about always being honest and not hiding anything important. He pulled out a sheet of parchment and picked up a quill, determined to work out the perfect wording. He wanted something to present to Hermione tonight, to help soothe her feelings and to reassure her that he was more than happy to tie his destiny to hers.

_It might help if you told her you love her_, the errant voice of his conscience chided him once more. Draco snorted. He just couldn't see himself doing that. Moreover he didn't see how that would relieve any of Hermione's anxieties about him. It was more likely to make her wonder if he had done anything that she wouldn't like. Satisfied with by soundness of his logic, he pushed that silly suggestion out of his head and returned to the task he had set before him.

****

It had been Givens all along. Hermione was pleased that she had been right about that. After leaving Draco's office, she had immediately returned to her own so that she could check the name written upon the spelled piece of parchment.

All of her suspicions had been confirmed.

She smiled grimly to herself. She was currently resting on a bench in the atrium, hoping to run into Harry either on his way to or from lunch so that she could pass that tidbit of information along. It was blasted hard these days to get a hold of her friend for it seemed as though he was always on duty. She hadn't been able to get together with him in order to share information. She exhaled, brushing a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. Despite how busy they were keeping him, his department simply had to be letting Harry take his lunch; he was still a growing wizard and the amount of food he could pack away bordered on obscene. Pretty much all the young Aurors were like that; it was the reason why lunch meetings were so rare in their department. Ordering that much food put a huge hole in their budget.

Hermione sighed and checked her watch. Given how late it was, she was beginning to think that either the Aurors were having one of their few lunch meetings or that Harry was out on assignment. She hated not knowing how to get a hold of him, and she silently resolved to do a better job of keeping up with his whereabouts, no matter how many obstacles were in her way. He was simply too valuable of an ally to lose track of the way she had.

She stood up and paced over to the lifts, tired of sitting in one spot. As she walked, she kept looking around, hoping to catch sight of one of her Auror friends.

Unfortunately that meant she wasn't pay much attention to where she was going.

"Oof!" she exclaimed as she stumbled into someone.

"Watch it, Granger," came a familiar surly voice.

She looked up and into a dark, scowling face. "Zabini?" she said. She blinked her eyes rapidly, still a little out of it from their collision.

The wizard rolled his eyes impatiently. "Perhaps your parents never taught you this, but it is customary to apologize when you crash into someone." Hermione opened her mouth, but Zabini held up a hand before she could get out a single syllable. "Don't worry. I won't hold your manners against you. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm running late enough as it is to this blasted meeting."

"Oh! So the Aurors are having a meeting after all?"

Zabini glared at her through narrowed eyes. "It figures that you would know about this damn meeting while I'm left in the dark."

"I didn't know about it," Hermione replied. "I just thought there might be one, seeing how I've not seen Harry come out for lunch yet."

"Brilliant deduction as usual, Granger. It's too bad it's not going to do me any good." Zabini huffed and strode to the lifts. Hermione trailed after him, sensing something was amiss.

"So you weren't told about it?" she asked.

"Obviously not," Zabini said dryly. "If I had known, I wouldn't be late, now would I?"

"Something tells me that you're not exactly the most popular wizard amongst the Aurors."

"Tell me, Granger, how does Malfoy manage to not wet himself in the presence of such greatness?"

Hermione tossed her hair about. "There's no need to take that tone with me, Blaise Zabini," she told him firmly. "It's not my fault that you're running late."

"Perhaps not. But it is your fault that I'm running later." He scowled fiercely. "As enchanting as this conversation is, I'm afraid I'll have to cut this short. Givens is just looking for the slightest excuse to get rid of me." With that, he lengthened his stride and stormed away. As it was apparent that he was in no mood to impart any more information to her, Hermione let him, thinking that it might be best just to get Draco to speak with the Slytherin Auror later.

It was worrisome though how Givens was targeting Zabini. Zabini obviously assumed that the ultimate goal of the head Auror's machinations was to get rid of him, but Hermione had her doubts. Something told her that there was more to it than just that.

_Well I'm not going to be able to piece everything together right now. I hate to admit it, but I just don't know enough._ She sighed. _But at least I know more than I did before. I'll have to try to catch Harry tonight... or later this week rather. Seeing how I've already planned to speak with my contact at the _Prophet _tonight. Back to work then. _Pushing those troubling thoughts aside, she returned to her office and to the research she had been putting off for far too long.

****

**Author's note: **My apologies for the long time between updates, but hopefully this was worth the wait. I would love to know what you think.


	32. Under Her Control

**Ambition's End: Under Her Control**

**Disclaimer:** Only the plot is mine. The characters, setting, and everything else belong to JKR.

****

"Are you absolutely certain that Dennis Creevey hasn't been dropped by lately?" Hermione asked her contact that the _Prophet_, Sarah Tribal.

Sarah shook her head from side to side. "I'm positive," she said. "Creevey's a good photog, and there were a couple of jobs I wanted to give him." She shrugged her shoulders. "I wound up having to give them to someone else. It's too bad really. He's one of the easier photogs to work with. You wouldn't believe the egos that some of them have."

Hermione smiled wryly. "Trust me, I would. That's why I've been trying to track down Dennis. I thought it might be nice to have him as an informal photographer at my wedding. Especially since he's Muggle-born, like me."

"I see," Sarah said sagely. "It is hard to find someone who knows how to deal with Muggles.

"Indeed," said Hermione. "So any interesting stories you're working on?" she asked, changing subjects. She had helped Sarah out on stories several times before as part of their arrangement.

"The biggest story right now is your wedding," Sarah replied, "and it's best that I leave that in the ever so capable hands of our gossip witch."

"Of course." Hermione instantly understood Sarah's reasoning. There was no point in aggravating Rita Skeeter for what was essentially a simple society story.

"Although I have heard a rumor here and there that Hogwarts might need a new headmaster soon." Sarah looked expectantly at Hermione.

Hermione bit her lower lip before answering. "I've not heard anything definite. But my personal opinion is that Minerva is beginning to feel her age."

"Any thoughts as to who would be in the running as her replacement?"

"At this point, who knows? I doubt Minerva or the board has given much thought to that. Slughorn, I suppose, if they're feeling conservative and if they can convince him to take on the role. Melchior would also be a good choice, but the fact that he's a Gryffindor and the Transfiguration professor to boot—"

"Ah yes. That might get held against him. I can see the board not wanting it to appear as though the road to being headmaster goes through Transfiguration every time. But you said it's still early?"

"Yes. I believe that retirement has crossed Minerva's mind, but she's not going to go just yet." Hermione scratched her nose. "Maybe after the enrollment figures start to rebound…I think she'd want to leave on a high note."

"That makes sense. You'll keep me advised?"

Hermione nodded her head. "Of course."

"Thanks. I'll keep in touch." That was clearly a dismissal as Sarah bent her head over the article she was working on. Hermione left the room, not minding how abruptly their conversation had ended. Sarah was like that; once the exchange of information was completed, the other witch didn't bother with useless pleasantries.

Hermione hurried along. It was already quite late as she hadn't been able to leave work as early as she would have liked, and she was feeling rather hungry. She was almost out the door when she was waylaid by one of the most irritating witches ever.

"Miss Granger, how surprising to see you," sounded Rita Skeeter's nasally voice from behind her.

Hermione sighed and counted to ten before turning around. "Skeeter," she said shortly.

"In a hurry, are we, to get back to that fiancé of yours? Worried that his eye might stray?"

"Hardly," Hermione spat out. She was not about to say anything of substance about her relationship with Draco to the scurrilous reporter in front of her.

"You are so passionate in your defense of him, Miss Granger. It's quite astonishing. But then everything about your upcoming wedding is." Skeeter raised an eyebrow. "In fact, I would have thought you would have refused Mr Malfoy, given your past history."

"I suppose that shows just how well you know me," Hermione replied. "I am the most forgiving of witches. Certainly you have first hand knowledge of that." Her barb hit home as Skeeter's face paled. Hermione smirked wickedly. "Is that all?"

"But of course, dear. Don't let me keep you." Skeeter waved a hand lazily, indicating that Hermione was free to go. "Oh! But I do hope you remembered to drop off your official wedding announcement and photo while you were here?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Official announcement?" she repeated. Experience told her that she wasn't going to like what Skeeter had to say about that.

"Why yes. You do want your wedding to be announced in the Sunday paper, don't you? I've noticed that we haven't received your submission yet, so I hope you turned it in today. Even so, I don't know if we still have the room to print it as our announcement pages fill up very, very quickly."

It took all of her self control not to roll her eyes at the smug look on Skeeter's face. "And here I thought you'd cover my wedding without—"

"Without a formal submission? Merlin no! The _Prophet_ is not in the habit of giving special preference to anyone, no matter how famous or revered they might be. We must keep up appearances, after all. We wouldn't want to be accused of any sort of favoritism." Rita's sneer was large and obnoxious.

"Merlin forbid." This time Hermione didn't bother to hold back her eye roll. "Very good then. I shan't expect any representatives of the _Prophet_ to be in attendance at our wedding. I'll let our security team know to redistribute the media credentials we had set aside to other papers post-haste."

Skeeter's jaw dropped open in shock. "I don't think it's necessary…I mean at this late date, surely it would be inconvenient—"

Hermione cut her off. "Don't worry about it. It's no bother. Besides you must keep up appearances and all that. Good day." With that she quickly exited the building and before the older witch could follow her, Hermione Apparated back to her flat.

Once in the privacy of her flat, she began laughing. "Merlin! The look on Skeeter's face!" Hermione grinned. "She didn't think I'd do that, now did she?" She bounded into the kitchen, her hunger somewhat alleviated by her good mood. She knew that wouldn't last and so she set about making something for dinner, seeing how she hadn't stopped anywhere in Diagon Alley like she had originally planned.

Hermione chewed her lower lip as she surveyed the contents of her fridge. Sandwiches would be the easiest and quickest to make, but she couldn't muster any enthusiasm for that option. There were some leftovers as well but as they didn't appeal to her as they were several days old. A package of chicken caught her eye. She tilted her head to the side as she mentally ran through all the recipes she knew.

Then her eyes widened as she felt that particular flow of magic that meant someone had Apparated into her flat. She quietly shut the fridge before returning to her living room to see who was there.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at the sight of her fiancé lounging in her living room. "Draco. What a surprise," she said flatly.

He smirked in response. "Keep that up, and I'll start thinking you're not happy to see me."

"Oh really?"

"Now, now, dearest. You did promise that we'd finish what you started earlier."

She raised an eyebrow. "I don't recall specifying tonight."

To her surprise, instead of a witty comeback, Draco slumped down and sighed. "Must everything be a test?" he asked plaintively.

"I'm…I'm not testing you," she sputtered.

He sighed again. "Look I know you were upset earlier when you came to visit me at my office. But I took care of that, okay? You won't have any trouble seeing me again. I've changed the wards and made certain everyone knows not to get in your way. So for now can't we call a truce? It's awfully tiring, always trying to match wits with you, and don't you think our energy could be better spent elsewhere?" He looked meaningfully at her.

She pursed her lips together. Draco had a point. It was counterproductive, and besides, they had made a promise to work with each other. It was odd though to think that he was being the peacemaker between the two of them. Certainly it wasn't something one would expect of a Slytherin. But then again, seeing how they were plotting to control the world together, it was something an intelligent Slytherin would do.

"Well?" Draco prodded her, tapping his foot impatiently. Evidently she was taking too long for him.

"You're right," she said, "but it's going to be hard. It's almost habit, really, for me to immediately launch into a battle of wits whenever I see you."

"True enough," he agreed. "But I think you could try a bit harder to trust me."

"It might also help if you could try a bit harder not to arouse my suspicions."

"Touché." A small smile crossed his lips. "And of course, the opposite is true. I could try harder to trust you while you could do a bit more not to arouse my suspicions. I didn't find the show you put on earlier today to be all that amusing," he added, clenching his jaw.

Hermione lifted her chin and met the force of his glare straight on. "I didn't do that just to annoy you," she stated.

"For some reason, I find that hard to believe," he said in a deliberate drawl.

"Well you should. I hardly ever do anything for a single reason. I knew it would annoy you, and that was fine with me after the way you kept accusing me of being jealous." Hermione rolled her eyes just thinking about that silly charge. "But more importantly, I wanted to find out right away who was the first person to open the letter."

"It wasn't me, I take it," he stated.

"No, it wasn't."

"And this is what I mean about you not seeming trustworthy. Would it kill you to share more details with me? Without my having to ask, that is. We did agree to work together, did we not?" he asked in a much aggrieved tone.

"Well yes." She bit her lip. It was more than that actually when she considered that they had both agreed to join forces behind her plan to mold the Wizarding World into a better place. She hated to admit it, but so far, he had held up his end of the bargain better than she had. _Although he did bait me something awful when I dropped by his office. Everything I've done since then was just to get even. Blast! Now _that _makes me sound like a jealous witch!_

Suddenly she felt guilty at how she had been childishly lashing out against Draco ever since his damn secretary had pretended not to know who she was. He hadn't done anything to her personally after all. It would have been nice if he had reassured her instead of teasing her.

She shook her head. She hated how insecure that sounded. She had always prided herself on being the sort of witch who didn't need a man to realize her worth.

"Hermione?" Draco's voice interrupted her train of thought.

"Yes?"

He stepped towards her and clasped her hands between his. "Look. I admit that I did provoke you earlier. And I'm sorry for that. I'll try not to do that anymore if you'll promise to do the same...."

She nodded her head yes.

"Good. And perhaps we were going too fast. We can't expect for things to suddenly be all right between us. It's not very realistic for us to all of a sudden trust each other with our lives." He broke out into a smile. "But that's where your solution comes in, doesn't it?"

"My solution?" She tilted her head to one side, not sure what he was referring to.

"Our wedding vows," he clarified. "The wedding is only a couple of weeks away. Don't you think we should start working on them together? To make certain that nothing important gets left out of them?"

"That might not be a bad idea," she said.

"Good. Because I've already worked on a few, and I want to know what you think." Suddenly his stomach growled. "I'm starving! Do you have anything to eat around here? We could look over them during dinner." He dropped her hands and stepped around her, making a beeline towards the kitchen.

Hermione could only sigh. Of course, Draco was hungry. Wizards always were. She shook her head and then followed him into the kitchen. When she arrived, she found him staring at the contents of her fridge with a look of concentration writ large across his face. "I know. I don't have much," she said. "I could make you a salad."

He pulled a face. "A salad?" His tone left no doubt how little he thought of her offer.

"Let me guess. Your mother always had trouble getting you to eat your vegetables when you were little."

"And you were the sort who dug into them eagerly no doubt," he shot back. "But all that's beside the point. While I don't mind salad, it's hardly enough to fill me up. It's all right as an appetizer, I guess, but I need more than that."

"I guess someone's feeling hopeful about tonight," she muttered under her breath.

Draco just ignored her mumblings. "What's this?" he asked, pulling out a carton.

"That?" She wrinkled her brow, trying to remember what was in it. "Oh! That's some leftovers from last week. I thought I'd thrown that out. Guess not." Her jaw dropped as he opened the carton and sniffed at it. "Draco! Don't tell me you're actually thinking about eating that! It's over three days old. It's not good any more!"

"Still smells good," he told her. "Tell you what, dearest. You can go ahead make that salad for yourself while I'll help myself to this." He waved a finger to hush her. "No complaints, Hermione. You were just going to throw it out anyway, and this way it won't go to waste."

"Fine," she said. "But don't complain to me if you're not feeling well tomorrow."

****

Hermione could only watch in horror as Draco added yet another heaping spoon of sugar to his cup of coffee. He stirred briskly before taking a sniff of the concoction within. He nodded to himself and then finally raised the cup to his lips to take a drink.

He immediately grimaced, setting the cup down on the table with a light thud.

"Perhaps you need a bit of coffee to go with your sugar and cream?" she suggested.

Draco looked at her as though she had suddenly sprouted another head. He reached out for the pitcher of cream once more. "Are you mad, woman?" he asked as he started a new cycle of adding sugar and cream to his cup. "I need more of them, not less, to counteract this battery acid that you insist is coffee." With that, he picked up the sugar bowl and all but emptied it into his cup.

Hermione repressed a shudder. Draco's love of sugar seemed unnatural to her. He was rather like Ron in that regard; she could never understand how her friend had such a bottomless appetite for sweets. She couldn't really stand eating anything too sugary herself, but then she supposed that could be pinned on her upbringing.

Draco lifted his cup to his lips and took a taste. He promptly frowned. "I don't suppose you have any more sugar?" he asked.

Hermione lifted an eyebrow. "There's some in the kitchen," she said. "But frankly I don't see how you'll manage to get any more into there without spilling over. In fact, that makes me wonder why it hasn't spilled already."

He offered her a small smile. "Charmed it," he said simply.

"Impressive," she said in an awed voice. And that it was. Wandless magic was difficult enough, but to cast a spell with nary a sound was harder still. Very few wizards could accomplish as much. But Draco had taken it a step further. Somehow he had managed to cast a spell in her own home without her noticing any changes in magical currents. That was a feat that none of her friends had ever been able to perform, unused as they were to acting subtly.

"Thank you," he said, inclining his head towards her. "I'll certainly have to remember this. Hermione Granger impressed by my control of magic. Who would have thought?" Draco grinned broadly at her.

"I know," she agreed. "Seeing how you were never known for your prowess with spells in school."

He huffed in aggravation. "Not my fault that practically the whole damn school was set against us," he muttered under his breath. "And it didn't help that both you and Potter loved showing off."

"Excuse me? I never—"

"Now, now," he said, wagging a finger at her. "Your friends and I might not see eye to eye all that often, but I'm positive they would agree with me that you were always over eager to answer every question thrown your way and demonstrate any spell mentioned in passing while we were in school."

She wrinkled her nose. Unfortunately he was right. Her friends would back him up on that one. "Some of them would say that I'm still the same swot," she grumbled.

"Somehow I'm not surprised." He took another sip of his coffee and grimaced. "It'll have to do, I guess. Next time I must remember not to add so much to my cup," he said to himself. Then he focused his attention on Hermione once more. "Ah yes. That reminds me. It might be prudent to let you know my plans for the day."

"Oh?"

"Yes. You see, I intend on visiting some old school chums of mine."

"I see," she said.

"I'm sure you do," he said evenly. "It's a bit of a calculated risk, I suppose, for who knows what sort of rumors might start up if any gossip catches sight of me. Still I am curious to find out if anyone has filled in the void left by Flint."

Hermione nodded silently. She hadn't paid much attention to the pure-blood zealots ever since Flint's attack, being more worried with containing Givens, but it would be good to know what they were up to. There was always the possibility that she and Draco would be able to set one side against the other.

"So how about you? Any plans you have that I should know about? Or should I say warned about?"

Hermione furrowed her brow. "No, nothing specific," she replied.

"But you do have something in mind?" he pressed her.

She sighed. "I don't know if I'll have any time to work on this today, but I would still like to track down Dennis Creevey," she admitted. "He's been blasted hard to find. So I can't say that I'm going anywhere in particular. I'll just be keeping my ear to the ground, I guess, in case any new leads pop up."

"Have you tried his parents?" Draco asked.

"His parents?" she echoed.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "I take that as a no. You should try it. I'm willing to bet that you'll find him hiding out there."

"And what makes you think that?" she asked. It wasn't a bad place to check, but she wanted to know why he sounded so confident about his suggestion. Had he been looking for the wizard as well or was it something else?

"Let's just say it's a gut feeling."

Hermione leveled her best glare at him. His words and manner were innocent, but that only made her wonder if he was hiding something from her. "It must be more than that," she said. She continued to stare at him, waiting for him to reveal his source.

Draco grimaced. "Really it's just a matter of simple deduction," he said. "Assuming that Creevey caught Givens in the act, then he must have realized that he was in over his head…that if he said something to the wrong person, then he would be putting his own life at risk.. And so I'm willing to bet he fled to the comfort of his parents' home." He paused then. There was a reflective look to his eyes when he continued. "I think I know something about what scared little boys are likely to do when they find that they're not really ready to face the big bad world."

"Oh," she said. It was one of those rare occasions when she was at a lost for words, but she simply did not know what to say. Deep in the pits of her stomach, she could feel guilt gnawing away. She felt awful about how she had leapt to the conclusion that Draco must be hiding something from her. Now it was all too obvious that he hadn't, that he had been completely truthful with her. Draco was certain that Dennis was hiding out at his parents' house because that's what Draco himself would have done not that long ago if he had found himself in similar circumstances.

She really should have trusted him. It was just hard for her to do that. Intellectually she knew she had to get over the habit of thinking he was plotting against her—the sooner, the better otherwise it might turn into a liability. She only wished she knew how.

Or rather she wished she knew an easier way how.

If she wanted to trust him instinctually rather than suspect him automatically, then she would have to act as though she already did. She had to wait before leaping to conclusions and give him a chance to explain himself. That was a tall task, but then she had always prided herself on having a disciplined mind. On the bright side, Draco was intelligent enough to realize when he might need to assuage her fears over suspicious actions of his. Certainly that must have been the reasoning behind him letting her know in advance that he intended to contact his former housemates later today.

And that problem must have also driven him to compose that one particular wedding vow he wrote, in which he promised to always honor his words to her in precisely the way she would desire. The fact that he was not only willing, but was also actively trying to help her get through her trust issues—well that was tangible proof that she could depend on him.

She smiled softly, feeling almost lightheaded with giddiness. Just the thought of having a partner who actually did his share of the work made her happy. Realizing that was what she had with Draco—she didn't have words to describe how joyful and relieved and grateful that made her feel.

"Is something wrong?" Draco asked. "That smile can't bode well for me," he added.

"No, no, nothing's wrong," she hastened to assure him. "I was just thinking how nice it is that I can have someone who I can count on."

"I see."

"But in any case, your suggestion is an excellent one."

"Of course it is. All of mine are."

She raised an eyebrow at that boast but let it pass. "As I was going to say before I was interrupted, I like your idea but I'm not sure if I'll be able to stake out his parents' house today." She rolled her eyes thinking of the chaos that awaited her in the Ministry. "You see, there's a meeting of all the Unspeakables where we get to argue over who should have how much time with the oracles while Merlose is out."

"And of course you want to have your time sooner rather than later," Draco surmised, "so you can figure out how best to program them."

She nodded her head. "Yes. I don't like it, but I might have to throw both your name and Harry's as well into that discussion."

"Sounds like fun."

She couldn't help but send her eyes rolling towards the ceiling once more. "Doesn't it though? So that's my first priority, though hopefully I'll also have time to find Dennis."

He took another small sip of his coffee, grimacing all the while. "I wish you all the luck in the world." Suddenly he smirked. "But thank you for the warning, my dear. I shan't be surprised in the least if I hear that you started a brawl at the Ministry today."

"You should have more faith in me than that. If a brawl does start—and it's entirely possible one might—I won't be the one blamed for starting it. You can count on it."

He laughed. "Indeed I think I can. I almost feel sorry for the poor soul who decides to annoy you today."

****

**Author's note:** Thanks for reading this far! Reviews would be very much appreciated. The next chapter, _Festival of the Hunt_, will hopefully be up soon.

My thanks goes out to everyone who reviewed the last chapter: crimsoneyes44, DodgerMcClure, waffenmac, mlui, gitgit, Bauerbaby24, MamaJMarie, alina290, lrmorena, constanticy, Kae-Lae, Mary, Chanteur d'ombre, ebbe04, dracosnumber1girl, kazfeist, Chibi Mistress, , crazymexican, DCoD, and PanduhFace. It always makes my day to learn that someone has enjoyed reading what I have written.


	33. Festival of the Hunt

**Ambition's End: Festival of the Hunt**

**Disclaimer:** Only the plot is mine. The characters, setting, and everything else belong to JKR.

****

"Dear Merlin, I don't think I recognized half the people here," said Padma in a half-whisper to Hermione and Anthony Goldstein as they left the first full meeting of the Department of Mysteries in ages.

"And that's truly saying something," added Anthony Goldstein. "In Ravenclaw, Padma was famous for knowing just about everyone in the Wizarding World," he explained to Hermione.

Padma snorted. "I have my mother to thank for that," she stated. "I could never spend as much time studying during the summer as I would like, thanks to her."

"Ah but think of all the enrichment she added to your educational experience by supplementing it with so many practical—"

Hermione had had enough of Anthony's attempts at being witty. While she liked him well enough, he had a tendency to go on and on and on if no one stopped him. So she decided to do just that. "Tell me, Padma, has Goldstein always been so very precious?"

"Unfortunately yes," the other witch replied. "We were all quite tired of him by the time our last year rolled by. I understand that none of the other boys wanted to bunk near him."

"Hmph," Anthony snorted. He crossed his arms together and glowered at the two witches as though offended, but one could tell by how his eyes lit up that he was amused. "Keep talking like that and I'll be forced to believe that I'm not wanted."

Padma spun on her feet, her robes flourishing around her as she turned to face her boyfriend. "Oh but darling, I do want you." She smirked. "I want you to shut up."

"Trust a Ravenclaw witch to know how to make her man feel loved. She even favors books over me," he complained to Hermione.

"I can see why. I would too. They know how to stay quiet after all." The two witches laughed at the face Anthony pulled. It was contagious for a minute later he joined them in their mirth.

"All right, all right. I'm not that stupid, you know. I know when to stop," he said.

"If you did—" Padma started.

Anthony continued speaking, albeit a bit louder to be heard over Padma. "But how else should I disguise my jealousy of the slots the two of you were able to land?" he asked, his hands outstretched before him. "I don't get an hour with the oracles until well into next year."

"You should've been quicker," Hermione told him.

"That might have helped," he agreed readily. "But I think it would've helped more if I had the connections you do. You made out rather nicely, didn't you, Hermione?"

Hermione pursed her lips together and shook her head from side to side. "I did all right, I suppose," she said. "But not as well as I would've liked to."

"Well if that means you're open to a trade, I'm more than willing to trade all of my time slots with yours," Anthony stated.

"As am I," added Padma. "You have a full four hours with the oracles this week and all."

"Thanks but no thanks. I think I have more hours with the oracles than the both of you put together," said Hermione, wrinkling her nose. There was no way she was going to trade those hours away for she needed them dearly for her plans. "I'm not saying that I didn't do well, seeing how there were so many people senior to us in the meeting. Just that I would have liked to have got more time." She sighed and shrugged her shoulders. "But it was a concession I had to make in order to work with the oracles sooner rather than later. I didn't want to take the risk of someone breaking them and all, seeing how I suspect the only person who understood how they work was Merlose himself."

"Merlin, you just had to twist the knife, didn't you?" Anthony groaned. "Not to mention that there's always the chance that Merlose might recover from his coma. If he does, then my guess is that all of us will lose our precious time with the oracles." He sighed dramatically. "What are the chances, you think, of my ever getting my time?"

"I wouldn't hold my breath," Padma noted wryly. She stuck her tongue out at him. That earned her an eye roll from Hermione.

"Well it doesn't take a genius to figure out where this conversation is headed," Hermione said in a rush before Anthony could respond to Padma's provocation. "So I'll leave you two love birds to it. Bye now!" With a wave, she trotted off and headed to her office.

There was a bounce to her step as she walked along. While she hadn't been lying to her friends when she had said she had hoped to do better, overall she was very pleased with her performance in the meeting today. The odds had been stacked against her for she hadn't even been a member of the department for two years. There were only a handful of people she had seniority over. But thankfully half of the room was still in awe of Harry Potter, while the other half trembled in fear of her future father-in-law. So all things considered, she was more or less able to get everything she wanted.

She allowed herself a smirk as she entered her office. It was brilliant how things had worked out the way she had planned them so long ago. Being able to use her connections along with Draco's would make her virtually unstoppable. _Well make the two of us unstoppable,_ she amended mentally. _Can't forget that we're working together on all this now. Particularly not when Draco's so cunning in his own right._

She skipped over to her desk, the chair pulling out as she reached it, still feeling rather jubilant. The most important thing for their plans had been for her to get some time with the oracles as soon as possible. In that, she had succeeded beyond her wildest dreams; she had managed to snag almost a day's worth of time with them before the wedding. _And I didn't even have to start a brawl!_

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to settle down a bit so she could actually do some work. With the mental discipline she was known for, she pushed her excitement aside and focus instead on her research. She pulled out her wand. She cleared the top of her desk with one wave of her wand before tapping it to expand it. Once that was done, she took out the photographs from her latest round of tests so that she might examine them.

Hermione had made a lot of progress when it came to developing the field of magical forensics. There had been few texts relating to how magical fields were disturbed by spells for her to rely on when she had started, and all of them spoke in vague terms of how different spells felt to a wizard in his presence. Thus Hermione's first round of experiments looked at the diverse ways that different magical spells altered the physical world.

Contrary to what most people believed, there was more to a spell than simply its direct effect. For example, when a wizard used a summoning charm, objects around the item summoned were also slightly displaced. She had found that this displacement generally decreased as the magical ability of the wizard increased, with the only exception being if a wizard was unable to properly focus his magic due to some extreme emotion.

As she had continued to look at other spells, she had found that this trend continued. The more magically powerful a wizard was the smaller range of effect his spells had. Hermione theorized that this was due to the fact that powerful wizards had better control of magic. Thus someone like herself or Harry was able to use _Accio_ without disturbing any other objects in a room, while other friends of hers using the exact same spell in the exact same room would knock half a dozen nearby objects over. The same went for hexes. The reason why Harry was such an effective dueler was because he was better able to focus all the magic of his spell upon his target. The only exception was when Harry was enraged. When he was overcome with emotion, he seemed to channel more magic than usual and that magic bled out to the area surrounding his target. Hermione had noted that the more upset Harry was, the larger the blast zone his hexes had.

But that research was only the first step for Hermione. She had a long way to go if she was ever to be able to determine what spells had been used at a scene by which wizard. Her current research was checking to see what patterns in magical fields different spells left behind. Originally she had hoped to be able to differentiate spells by looking at how the physical world was disturbed by then. That hadn't been fruitful, especially not when it came to hexes and curses as they all more or less had the same pattern of influence. Thus she had turned to seeing how spells influenced the magical world.

In order to do that, however, she had first to develop a series of analysis charms that would make fields of magical power visible to the caster. It had taken her awhile to create that spell series, and she had actually wound up turning to Muggle research and texts on auras to help her. The charms had been dead useful to her in many ways ever since their creation. She had wound up using them numerous times, including that one time she had used them to check on the wards placed on the Oaks' home by her friends. Hermione had even found out that with an additional flourish, she could use the spells to see the magical fields in photographs. Now that her series of spells had been thoroughly vetted, she was ready to take the next step in her research.

Hermione laid out three sets of photographs. Each set was on a different spell: the summoning charm, the banishing charm, and _Expelliarmus_.Each spell affected the physical world in a similar manner in that they all transported objects. Hermione had had taken both mundane and magical photographs taken of different wizards casting the same spell. She planned to examine each set of photographs using her analysis charms to see if she could determine which set represented which spell based on the patterns in the magical fields.

She closed her eyes to clear her mind and took a deep breath to center herself. She gripped her wand tightly, the wood feeling cool beneath her fingers. She opened her eyes, and with practiced eased, set about casting the series of charms that would allow her to view the fields of magical power within each photograph.

Hermione was still bent over her desk a couple hours later. Almost immediately she had been able to tell which one was _Expelliarmus_ for the other two spells had looked like mirror images of each other, which was the result she had expected for the summoning and banishing charms. From there she had been able to tell which set of photographs represented the summoning charm and which were for the banishing charm by examining the flow of magic. Magic flowed towards the caster when the summoning charm was used and away when the banishing charm was cast. Hermione had been quite proud of herself that she was able to figure that out without having to refer to the notes on the back of the photographs.

It became harder after that. Her original plans were for her to sketch out how magical fields were affected by each spell. However there was too much variation in effect amongst the different wizards and witches casting each spell in the photos. She sighed deeply. Hermione supposed that her sample size was too small and that was why she couldn't figure out what the defining features each spell was.

She sat back in her chair and stretched her arms before her. "Well at least I made some progress today," she told herself consolingly. "Really it's too much to expect you can figure everything out just like that."

She stood up and started pacing about, the way she did when she was trying to think things out, speaking to herself all the while. "I'm probably going to have to run another battery of tests on these spells. That's the only way to increase my sample size after all. The only problem is finding more volunteers." She sighed as she turned around to start walking back in the opposite direction.

"Of course that begs the question of just how large a sample I'm going to need," she mused aloud. "I have pictures of ten wizards casting those spells right now. Would a hundred be enough? Maybe, maybe not. And just thinking about finding ninety other wizards and then taking both Muggle and Wizarding pictures of them all…that'll take another six months at least."

Suddenly she stopped in her tracks. "I've got it," she said, snapping her fingers. "I can use my time with the oracles to run virtual experiments." Then she deflated as she thought of an issue with that scheme. "Of course there's the slight problem that I still don't know exactly how to program the oracles…and that's putting it mildly."

She started pacing back and forth once more. It would be wonderful if she could use the oracles for virtual experiments, but she didn't have enough experience with them to do so. She had time with them the day after next, and so she could start deciphering their set up then. Hermione was confident enough in her abilities that she knew she could figure out how to run them in a couple months provided she had unlimited access to them. But she didn't and so she was back at square one.

However she did have a computer of her own at home. Its processor might not be powerful enough for her purposes, but she could remedy that problem by throwing some of Draco's money at it. The more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea. She might never get enough time with the oracles to learn how they functioned. She was competing with every single other Unspeakable with department to use them. Besides Merlose may have put wards on them preventing anyone else from using their full capabilities. But there was nothing stopping her from creating her own batch of magical computers and using them to further her research.

She decided that was what she was going to do. While at work, she would still follow traditional avenues of research and arrange for more tests to be conducted. The more real world data she could get her hands on, the better for her future virtual experiments. But after the wedding, she would set about fabricating her own set of magical computers for her personal use.

Of course, that task would also have to wait until after they brought Givens to justice. Hermione checked the clock on her wall. It was getting late in the afternoon, but she had enough time to pay a visit to see if Dennis was hiding out at his parents' house the way Draco had surmised. She quickly began putting her office in order, reversing the charm on her desk to return it to original size and placing the sets of photographs back in their original envelopes. Five minutes later, she was out the door and on her way to the nearest Apparition chamber.

Rather than Apparating straight to the neighborhood where the Creeveys lived, she headed back to her flat first. She thought it would be prudent to change into Muggle clothing so she wouldn't stick out. She considered briefly casting a disillusionment charm but decided against it. Such a charm would be picked up right away if Dennis had even the most basic of protection spells on his parents' home. Therefore she had less risk of detection by forgoing that charm. However it wouldn't hurt to tame her most recognizable feature: her hair. She sighed. She couldn't use the usual spells for taming her hair for the same reason she couldn't use a disillusionment charm. That meant she would have to straighten it the Muggle way.

This was going to take awhile.

Once she had finally finished getting her hair under control, she was ready to go. Hermione Apparated to a deserted alley. It was the closest point to her target, being only a few blocks away from the Creeveys' house. She tucked her wand away in its holster. Stepping out of the alley, it took her a minute to get her bearings before she figured out which way to go. As she made her way, it occurred to her it might be prudent to have a cover story just in case. She scowled briefly; the fact that she didn't already have a cover story in place was more evidence of Draco's influence. She had never been the sort to plunge in without have plan with multiple fail safes.

But then she usually had the luxury of more time to think things through. Time was no longer on her side for her fiancé and his friends wouldn't be safe until Givens was finally put away. _I could use more practice thinking on the run anyway. I don't think I'm bad at that, but then I usually manage to avoid having to concoct a plan at the last minute. Best to practice now in a relatively safe situation_.

Hermione was nearing the Creeveys' home as she was putting the final touches on the cover story she would use in case anyone stopped to question her. She would say that she was looking for a new place and the list her letting agent had given her had a house in this neighborhood. If anyone asked for the address, she would then pretend to have misplaced the list. It wasn't as solid a plan as she would have liked, but Hermione thought that it was all right for something conceived in the last ten minutes.

Thankfully she was saved from having to test her story out by the sight of a familiar head of brown hair on top of a teenager ahead of her. She slowed her pace, hoping to catch a glimpse of the boy's face. Fortune was with her once more. The boy turned right on to the streets where the Creeveys lived, giving Hermione a clear view of his face in profile. The resemblance to Colin was unmistakable. Dennis was indeed hiding out at his parents' house.

Hermione waited until Dennis was out of sight before turning around and heading back to the alley so she could Apparate home. Now was not the time to confront Dennis to ask him what he had seen that day at Diagon Alley. Before she did that she needed to rehearse the arguments she would use on him. She had more than just a nagging suspicion that Dennis wouldn't feel charitable towards the pure-bloods who had lost their lives. Indeed she would hazard from the contents of the web site he had made, Dennis Creevey wasn't inclined to help any of those who had sided against them during the war. Logic alone might not be enough to carry the day with him, and so Hermione wanted to be prepared for anything.

That also meant that it would be prudent for her to make certain that Kingsley was available to take Dennis' testimony immediately upon her convincing the young wizard to testify. She didn't want to give Dennis the chance to change his mind after she had got him to agree after all. But that particular task was relatively easy; Kingsley tended to work late and besides Hermione knew where the Minister lived. That was one of the most useful perks to being part of the Golden Trio.

_Hmm...I wonder if Dennis would be more likely to listen to Harry,_ she thought. _He might be but the chances of me running into Harry are minimal at best, seeing how he's been run ragged these days by Givens. And besides, there's always the risk that Harry might let something drop in front of the other Aurors. Not that that would be like Harry, but people tend to be less cautious when they're exhausted the way he is. I can't ask Ron for the same reasons._

_So best to do that myself. Although I'm not completely alone in this. I can ask Draco what he thinks. Seeing how he was able to figure out where to find Dennis...well maybe he has some insight to into how to convince the boy to help us out._ She felt lighter then as though a load had been taken off of her back.

She might no longer have time on her side when it came to dealing with Givens, but she had something better—Draco.

****

For the second time in as many days, the door to his office violently swung open with nary a word of warning from his secretary. Draco glared as Blaise Zabini stalked over and sat down in the chair across from him. Draco was thoroughly irate at the whole situation; evidently his secretary wasn't as good a gatekeeper as he had thought. He just might have to have her reassigned.

Despite the vast irritation he was feeling, Draco too care not to let any sign of it show on his face. "My, my. What a surprise," he said mildly. "I didn't know we had an appointment to speak today, Zabini."

"We don't," the other wizard said shortly. He stewed silently in his seat, leaving Draco in the dark as to the purpose of his visit.

It was not something that Draco appreciated.

"Well then whatever you've come to say must be important. Otherwise you'd be at work." His tone was still polite. It was clear as day that something was bothering Zabini. The other Slytherin had been useful enough in the past to Draco, and so he owed it to Zabini to give him some time to collect his thoughts before he introduced sarcasm into the conversation.

So he folded his hands in front of him on the desk and continued to speak in a pleasant tone of voice when the other wizard failed to respond. "Since you're here during work hours, does that mean you've been told to investigate me?" he asked. "I assure you if that's the case, I won't hold it against you."

That got a reaction out of Zabini. "Good guess, but you're wrong. I'm not here on official business." His mouth twisted into a fierce grimace. "That would be impossible seeing how I've been suspended without pay and all."

"What?" Draco half-rose out of his seat, slapping his hands against the desk, utterly shocked at Zabini's words. "You've been suspended? Since when? And how? I know that you've been all but paranoid—"

"Evidently not paranoid enough to keep Givens from figuring out a way to get rid of me," Zabini retorted. Bitterness settled over his face. Draco settled back into his chair, sensing that he was about to hear a long story from the other wizard. "I should've known something was up ever since he decided to separate Glenn and me."

"That didn't make you suspicious?" Draco asked. "I thought everything that man did made you suspicious."

"Normally yes. But there was a flurry of reassignments. The official explanation was that the Aurors were understaffed and some of us younger ones have already proven ourselves to be competent enough to be able to handle working without a partner. Glenn and I was part of that batch as well as Potter and Weasley. So I wasn't worried."

Draco raised an eyebrow at that statement, surprised that his friend had been so easily fooled.

Zabini huffed in frustration. "Yeah, I know. That wasn't very clever of me, was it? Splitting up some of the newer teams just made so much sense since we really are stretched to the limit. The most I was worried about was that it would make me less effective. But hindsight is always perfect, isn't it? Now I can see that change was made in order to isolate me from the rest of the Aurors."

He went on with his story. "From what I've been able to gather, Givens has been spreading rumors about a traitor in the department. He's been saying that there simply has to be one otherwise the Aurors would've caught the murderer by now."

"Well there is one. Him," Draco noted.

"True that. In any event, I never heard any such talk. Givens is cunning like that. Then about three days ago I was given a new assignment—to guard Pansy Parkinson at her home."

Draco sat straight up. "Pansy?" he repeated. "She's been under Auror protection? Is she all right?"

"She's fine. At least she was when I left her, and I think she's safe. Potter's been assigned to her now, and for all his faults, he's not the sort to harm someone who is relatively innocent like her. But getting back to my story, I immediately became wary when I heard I was supposed to protect Pansy from any of Flint's former associates who might try to do away with her. It got even worse when I actually met up with Pansy."

"It turned out that I was the first Auror assigned to her. She had never requested any protection from us—she's no fool. She knew better than to trust either side. She figured she was better off watching her back than trusting anyone else to do so." Zabini grinned then. "Gave her a bit of a shock when I showed up unannounced. She almost took my head off."

"That sounds like Pansy," said Draco.

"So we got to talking and I found out that she hadn't asked for any help nor wanted it. Obviously something was up. I figured that Givens had assigned me to her because he was hoping to take us both out at once. It seemed like something he would do," Zabini said. "But it turns out I was wrong. Yesterday I received a Howler from Givens, lambasting me for being late to some mandatory meeting of all the Aurors. A meeting I hadn't heard of until then, I might add. So I rushed over there only to find that the meeting's over."

Zabini looked up, scanning Draco's office but not finding what he was looking for. He pulled a face. "And on a tangent, did you ever think that a bottle or two of firewhisky might not be out of place? A drink sounds just about right right now."

Draco lifted an eyebrow up and then clapped his hands once. He ordered the House elf who appeared to bring back a bottle of firewhisky from the Manor along with two shot glasses. It only took a minute for the elf to return with them. Draco waved a hand, dismissing the elf, and then poured a drink, first for Zabini and then for himself.

Zabini downed the shot in one gulp, then poured himself another and finished that off too. "Thanks," he said. "So where was I?"

"You were telling me how you had missed the meeting yesterday," Draco reminded me.

"Ah yes. Hence the need for a drink. To fortify me before I tell you what happened next." Zabini took a deep breath to steady himself. "So the meeting was over, but waiting for me was Givens. He immediately laid into me, saying how it's awfully dodgy how I've been shirking my duties in favor of associating with my old Slytherin friends lately. And my mouth dropped open…I was stunned speechless. I'd been with Pansy only because I was ordered to watch over her."

"And that was when he said I had never been given such an order, that I'd been missing my scheduled assignments for the last several days. That was when he accused me of being the traitor to the department. He suspended me, right then and there." Zabini scowled at the memory. "I still can't believe it. How could I've been so stupid?"

"You underestimated Givens, like we all have," Draco said. He was absolutely enraged at his friend's tale, livid beyond belief how Givens had played them all so well. He clenched his fists. He couldn't afford such anger. He had to focus so that they could take care of that monster once and for all.

"You said Potter is responsible for Pansy now?" Draco asked. He wanted to make certain that Pansy was safe. He didn't want to place her life in danger by underestimating Givens again.

"Yes, he is. Supposedly Potter is supposed to interrogate Pansy in stages and suss out what plots the two of us concocted." Zabini snorted. "Seems to me that Potter's next. He'll be accused of incompetence when he can't find anything out. Mark my words. He'll be placed on desk duty within the month."

Draco immediately leapt to the worst possible outcome of such a scenario. "And that would leave Givens free to take care of Pansy himself."

"Damn!" Zabini swore. "I didn't think of that."

"That means we need to take care of Givens now before he strikes again."

"We've been trying to do that, last I checked," Zabini stated. "The only problem is how."

Small creases formed in his forehead as Draco frowned. Unfortunately what Zabini had said was all too true. While the alliance he had formed with Hermione was still new, they hadn't made any progress at all when it came to defeating their nemesis. All they had made were plans to get more information, to get more tools that might lead to Givens' downfall. He was supposed to visit his old schoolmates later while Hermione was to find Creevey as well as schedule time with the oracles so she could learn how they functioned.

That was when the perfect plan hit him.

"Say Zabini," he said. "How's your mother?" he asked.

"Fine," replied the other wizard. "I don't know what you're planning but you better not—"

"I wouldn't dream of it," Draco replied, soothing his friend's fears. "But if I remember correctly…she knew Merlose, didn't she?"

"Yes," Zabini answered.

"They were friends even?"

The dark wizard narrowed his eyes at Draco. "You could say that. I fail to see the purpose behind this line of questioning."

"Excellent." Draco rubbed his hands together in glee.

"Care to enlighten me as to why you're suddenly so cheerful?" Zabini's voice was full of aggravation.

"It's bait for a trap I'll have Hermione set, something that Givens won't be able to resist."

"What are you planning?"

Draco shook his head. "I can't tell you. The less who know, the better."

"If it involves my mother, then I'm afraid I'll have to insist that you tell me."

"What you need to know is that you told me that your mother told you that Merlose had found out the identity of the murderer and was gathering evidence to take to Shacklebolt, and she's afraid that's why he was attacked," said Draco. "I'll also say that I was able to confirm that with some mutual associates. That shouldn't put her in harm's path."

"I don't—"

"Don't worry. Givens won't go after her. He'll be too busy dealing with both Hermione and me. We'll be the ones he will try to kill, not your mother, I promise you that."

Silence reigned over the room for one long moment as Zabini continued to glare at Draco. Finally he asked, "How long?"

"Before the week is up."

Zabini nodded his head sharply. "Fine. If for some reason he's not dealt with by the time the weekend rolls along, my mother and I will be going on an extended vacation. But don't think for one minute that I'm entirely happy about whatever it is you're plotting. I'm only playing along because we have got to get rid of that blasted wizard before he picks us off one by one. Since she still might a target, I won't be leaving her side until I hear the happy news that Givens is dead." Zabini stood up from his chair and stalked out of Draco's office with all the deadly grace of a tiger.

Draco was full of nervous energy, and he felt barely able to sit still. He longed to return home to wait for Hermione so he could impress her with the brilliance of his plan. However he couldn't rush home; he simply had too much work to do. Besides he knew that Hermione wasn't likely to be back home any time soon for she had plans to track down Creevey after her meeting today.

He paused for a moment as he remembered what her meeting was about. He hadn't heard during lunch about any brawls in the Ministry so he presumed that it went well enough. With any luck, Hermione would have finagled some time with the oracles this week. Such a development would serve to further refine his plan. If she didn't, however, he was positive they could work around that.

For the rest of the day, Draco threw himself into his work. He poured over the latest numbers from each subsidiary all in a desperate attempt to distract himself from watching the clock although he spent one pleasant hour looking at options for their honeymoon. It was premature but if they were able to take care of the head Auror before the wedding, then they could enjoy a real honeymoon rather than the abbreviated one he had thought would be necessary.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity had passed, the day was over and it was time to go home. Draco took care to go about his usual routine—summoning an elf to tidy up his office, checking his schedule for the next day and saying good bye to his subordinates along the way—just in case anyone was watching. It never hurt to be careful.

_Huh,_ he thought. _That sounds more like Hermione than me. I guess she is rubbing off on me. I suppose it's not a bad thing. It's funny though. Mother has been preaching to me for years about the need to think things through, but it's taken me being with Hermione for me to finally start doing that. _

When he got home, the house was empty. He had expected that, but he still felt a little disappointed. He had hoped that Hermione would be there waiting for him so he could tell her about his brilliant idea right away. Alas it was not to be.

So instead he went and ordered dinner from the kitchen elves before retiring to relax his study. He didn't know when Hermione would be in, but the wards on his house would inform him of her arrival. He flipped open his copy of the latest _Potions Monthly_. He began skimming through it, absently drumming his fingers against the table as he patiently waited for his fiancée to arrive. Minutes ticked by, and before he knew it, it was already six.

_I wonder where could she be. I thought she'd be here by now. Perhaps something has gone wrong on her end. _ He frowned then. _I hope not. I shouldn't leap to conclusions like that. Maybe she's at her flat? I thought she'd come back here so we could exchange notes on our day, but it's not like we ever confirmed where we'd spend the night. Here's better of course. It's more protected and everything…but then again she hasn't exactly moved in yet, so it's not exactly convenient for her I guess. Huh. I think we're going to have to address that issue tonight._

He closed his magazine shut and stood up. It was time to fetch Hermione if she was at her flat. And if not, then he would have to go out looking for her to make sure that she was safe.

****

**Author's note:** Thanks for reading this far! Reviews would be very much appreciated. The next chapter, _Silver Dragon_, will hopefully be up soon.

My thanks goes out to everyone who reviewed the last chapter: DodgerMcClure, MamaJMarie, crimsoneyes44, waffenmac, RedCinders, ebbe04, smaginn, Chanteur d'ombre, mkhtl, wickedwench1, mentarisenja, LAP, Kae-Lae, mlui, alina290, Dixiecharmer, Cathryn, Bauerbaby24, gitgit, lrmorena, LeaFairy124, Melissa Princeton, kazfeist, and Emery Wright. Thanks ever so muchly. I know it's corny, but your support really means a lot to me.


	34. Silver Dragon

**Ambition's End: Silver Dragon**

**Disclaimer:** Only the plot is mine. The characters, setting, and everything else belong to JKR.

****

Hermione was relaxing on her sofa, perusing the most recent edition of _Transfiguration Today _to pass the timewhile waiting for Draco to return home from work when she felt the wards on her flat suddenly bend the way they did when they allowed someone to Apparate in. A moment later, the familiar figure of her fiancé was standing before her.

"Draco," she exclaimed, leaping to her feet. She rushed forward and planted a kiss on his lips. "You're here late. Busy day?" she asked him.

"Yes, but that's not the reason why I'm late," he replied. "I thought that we'd be spending the nights from here on out at our new place."

"You did? But why?" She wrinkled her brow, confused as to why he had thought that. They had spent last night at her place and had eaten breakfast there too. Considering that they had discussed their plans for the day at her breakfast table, it seemed natural they would return to her flat to tell each other how things went.

"A bit of miscommunication is what I'm thinking. Obviously both of us were planning to see each other tonight. We just didn't think to confirm where that would be," he said with a rueful expression. He shifted from foot to foot as though he couldn't stand still. That was strange as usually Draco had no trouble controlling himself. "Evidently you thought that we would be coming back to your place, while I thought that we would both go home to our new house."

"Oh." She bit her lip, feeling a little embarrassed at how they could have forgotten to go over something so basic. It was such an obvious thing too. She tilted her head to one side as she considered the last statement that Draco had made about them going home to the house he had bought for them. It wasn't as though she had moved in yet, and she proceeded to say as much.

"I know you haven't," he replied. He ran his hands through his hair, ruffling it. "You can do so whenever you like, you know. There's more than enough room to fit everything in your flat there."

"Space isn't the issue," she stated. "I don't really have time to pack things up now with everything that we've got on our plates. Besides I thought we were going to wait until after the wedding before—"

"Moving in together. Yes, that was our original plan and all. But it might make sense for you to move to our house straight away, seeing how it appears that we are in need of a headquarters."

"Headquarters?" she repeated. "Somehow I think I've lost the plot," she muttered, half to herself. She didn't like that feeling.

"Yes, well, we can talk about that later," he said. "Have you eaten yet?" he asked.

"No, not yet," she replied with a shake of her head. "I was waiting for you to get back. I was thinking that take away might be a good idea for tonight."

"I've a better one," he said. "I've already ordered"—he grimaced, then corrected himself—"make that asked the elves to prepare something for us. Dinner should be ready by now, so let's go home and eat and then we can talk."

She frowned. Now he was leaving her in the dark intentionally. She didn't appreciate that. A demand for him to explain himself was on the tip of the tongue when she realized just why he was so eager for her to return home with him. He had information he wanted to share with her, and he didn't think her flat was safe enough.

She immediately bristled at that thought. The wards she had placed on her flat were nothing short of spectacular. Her place was as secure as it could get. She knew, however, that the protective wards on the house Draco had bought were better. Of course, they were—they had been layered into the foundation itself. And on top of that, there were a series of high level charms that could only be cast by the owner of a residence, and Draco was certain to have used those as well. The only problem was that those spells were keyed to him and not to her.

_Though that shouldn't be a problem. You're supposed to be working with him, _she reminded herself. _Whatever he wants to tell you…it's big, very big. You can tell just by looking at him. It's not like him to be this antsy. I don't think I've ever seen him fidget this much._ She took a deep breath. She wanted to trust him more. He deserved it. And if she trusted him, that meant she would agree to go with him.

"Well?" he prompted her. He looked ill at ease with her long silence. "Shall we go?"

"All right," she agreed. "Do you mind if I pack a change of clothes though? Since instinct tells me I'll be spending the night."

"You'll be spending more than the night if I get my way." He smirked at her, confident that he would get what he wanted.

Hermione reflected that he was probably right but she wasn't about to admit that. "Perhaps," she temporized. "That doesn't change the fact that I need to pack though."

"I'll send a couple of elves to bring over your clothing and anything else you need right away," he told her. He stretched out a hand towards her. "Come on. Let's go."

She wrinkled her nose, not happy at getting House elves to pack for her. However she wasn't about to start an argument over that for he had compromised with her on that issue, saying that he would pay the elves so long as she convinced them to take the pay. That was more than she had expected of him, and Hermione did appreciate it. She took the hand he offered her. With a smug smile, he pulled her until she was flush up against him. She closed her eyes as she felt that familiar rush of magic, and he Apparated them back to his home.

Hermione waited for the dizziness that always accompanied side-along Apparition for her to pass before opening her eyes to see that they had arrived at the same ballroom as before. It seemed to go away more quickly this time around as though she was getting accustomed to Draco's magic. _Hmm actually that makes sense_. _It's something to keep in mind for future research,_ she decided.

Draco released her from his embrace and tugged at her hand, indicating she should follow him. That she did readily. She had no choice really for she had yet to memorize the layout of the house. Briefly she wondered if she could get a copy of the plan for the house before tossing that idea aside. She could learn the layout naturally by wandering its halls. _Much more exciting that way, and without any worries about any copies falling into the wrong hands. _

Soon enough they had reached the dining room, but Draco didn't stop there. Hermione pursed her lips, wondering where he could be headed, when she recalled that he had mentioned there was an informal dining area that was attached to the kitchen. That must be where he was headed to. She was proven right when he continued through the kitchen and then passed through an unobtrusive doorway near the sink.

"And here we are," he announced.

"I seem to detect a noticeable lack of food," she noted with an ironic nod towards the empty table.

"That's because I've not told the elves yet to bring out the spread they've prepared. It's simple enough to fix." Gallantly he pulled out a chair for her. "Here. Have a seat." Draco waited for her to sit down before taking the seat next to her. That was when the table was suddenly covered from end to end with what looked to be a banquet for twenty.

"I stand corrected," she murmured. "Now there's too much to eat."

"I'm afraid you're right." Draco shrugged his shoulders. "It can't be help. The kitchen elves are new. I guess they thought it better to make too much food rather than not enough." He started to fill his plate, and Hermione followed suit.

The clink of silverware filled the air as they passed dishes to and fro. Hermione finished arranging her plate and opened her mouth, intent on grilling Draco as to what had he been so anxious to tell her. However he beat her to the punch by asking a question of his own about where she would prefer to go for their honeymoon. Caught off guard, she answered honestly that she hadn't given it much thought, and he proceeded to list off several different destinations along with the pros and cons of each.

Hermione had finished eating by the time the conversation had wound to an end, with Draco's list whittled down to three possibilities. She pushed her plate to the side, for she was rather full, but Draco did not do the same. She raised her eyebrows as he began refilling his plate for what was the third time by her count. _Looking at him you'd think he was still a growing boy. Which just might be true. _She sighed. _A cup of tea might be nice. I don't feel like eating anymore, but I could use something to drink. It looks like it's going to be a long night_, she thought. She eyed the incredible amount of food Draco seemed intent on tucking in and decided to do just that as that would help pass the time.

However she had grown tired of waiting for him to get to the point. Her instincts told her that he hadn't been filled with so much nervous energy over the thought of where to go on their honeymoon. If he wouldn't breach the subject, then she would do that for him. "So what was it that you wanted to talk about?" she asked, propping her chin up with her hands.

Draco was in mid-bite when she posed that question so he didn't answer right away. Instead he finished chewing, neither rushing nor dawdling, before finally responding. "You really do believe in cutting to the chase, don't you, not even allowing a bloke to get a bite or two in before getting on with the heavy stuff."

"I believe you've had more than just a bite," she pointed out.

He sighed dramatically. "And here I thought you might appreciate the fact that I don't believe in eating and talking at the same time."

"Oh trust me, I do appreciate your table manners," she said. "Though considering how jumpy you were at my place, I'm rather surprised you've not already gone ahead and told me what you were so excited about."

He looked insulted. "I was not jumpy."

"Draco," she said in a patronizing tone of voice. "You could barely stay still. You looked the whole time like you were going to burst with whatever news you had. And now you're temporizing?" She shook her head in disbelief and sighed.

"Well maybe I was a touch—"

"Jumpy?"

He glared at her, not pleased at the word choice she had suggested. "Excited was what I was going to say. And I still am really. But I'm also starving seeing how I'd been waiting for ages for you to come home and now that we have all this in front of us—"

"I see," she said. She rolled her eyes. "The next time I want to get information out of you, I'll make certain to insist on talking before sitting down at the dinner table."

"You wound me with such a suggestion."

"I doubt it," she replied flatly.

"You would." He took another bite of his food before going on. "But in any case, I suppose I'd best satisfy your curiosity before you do something drastic like curse my plate and fork. I wanted to talk to you about how I saw Zabini at my work today."

"You did?" She leaned closer to him. "Is he all right?"

"Yes, quite. What makes you ask that?"

"I saw him yesterday. He was in a rush, seeing how there was a meeting of all Aurors that he hadn't been told about."

"You didn't tell me that."

She waved her hand vaguely. "No I didn't. It didn't seem too important stacked up against the other things we had to talk about last night."

"True that," he said. "But Zabini is more or less fine. And by that I mean it turns out that Givens suspended him for missing that meeting."

"Blast!" she swore. "So that's what Givens was planning."

"I doubt that's all. Zabini is of the opinion that Potter is next. It seems like Zabini had been guarding Pansy before Givens accused him of being a traitor. So Potter's now been assigned to break Pansy and find out what she knows."

"Which is nothing because she's not been in on any plots, right?"

He nodded his head. "Right." He then sheepishly scratched his head. "I've not been the best of friends to her lately, but I understand she's been keeping to herself so as not to be a target for anyone."

"So Zabini thinks Harry will be demoted or worse when he can't get any information out of Parkinson, huh?" Hermione screwed up her nose. She could see that happening easily. She sighed. "Harry never was good at keeping his suspicions to himself," she noted as an aside.

Draco looked amused, as if he was trying to hold back laughter. "So glad that it was who you said that and not I, darling," he said mildly. "I take it that you agree with Zabini's assessment."

"Unfortunately," she said and twisted her mouth into a frown. "Does Zabini know what—"

"Givens is planning as an encore? No, more's the pity. Givens has so many potential targets that—"

"It's impossible for any of us to tell who he will go after next," Hermione finished for him. "And that's the crux of our problem, really. He just wants to cause as much pain as possible to both his former enemies—"

"Hardly former, my dear, seeing how he's still out to get them," Draco pointed out before taking a drink from his glass. He continued to eat leisurely from his plate.

"Fine then to his old enemies and also to anyone who gets in his way," Hermione said.

"Which would be you and Potter and anyone else who suspects him," Draco noted. "But it was good that Zabini visited me this afternoon for I remembered an interesting fact that I believe we can turn to his advantage."

"Oh? What is that?" she asked.

"You're aware of the reputation Zabini's mother has in the Wizarding World, are you not?" He waited for her nod before pressing on. "It turns out that she was friends, shall we say, with Merlose as well."

"Is that so?" She raised a questioning eyebrow at him. It was an interesting tidbit of information, but she failed to see why he attached such importance to it.

"Oh but yes. And seeing how they were such close friends and all, it would surprise no one if he revealed a few of his secrets to her." Draco leaned towards her until they were so close that their noses were almost touching. "What do you think Givens would do, dearest, if I sent you an owl claiming that I heard first from her son that she believed Merlose was attacked because he knew the identity of the murderer? And that Merlose stored such knowledge with the oracles?"

Hermione inhaled sharply, grasping the thrust of Draco's words right away. "You mean to bait him into a confrontation at the oracles with us, don't you?"

"That's exactly right."

She turned the notion around in her head. "It could work. Though I can't quite believe Zabini agreed to let you use his mother's reputation like that."

"He's not entirely happy with the matter, but he agrees we have to do something about Givens. Besides I'll mention confirming that fact with mutual associates so that should minimize any risk to the Zabinis."

"Not that there should be any if we plan things out just right. Givens' first priority will be to chase us down, and we'll take care of him there." Hermione continued to think about how they could turn Draco's concept into a foolproof plan. It was a very good idea, but it needed work.

She was going to need more caffeine to think things through however. She finished her current cup of tea and poured herself another. Then she turned to mentally addressing the flaws in Draco's idea, one by one.

Timing was going to be a major issue. They had to time several events just right for the plan to work otherwise it would blow up in their face. Unfortunately before they could even get to there, there was a rather large foundational issue that needed attention.

"All right. Assuming things go our way and we do bait Givens into a duel…when the dust has settled, what's to keep him from claiming that we were the ones who attacked him?"

"The oracles," he replied promptly. "There will still be the information that you planted on them that Givens was behind everything."

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think that's going to work. While I think I can plant information on the oracles, seeing how I've used computers before, I can't guarantee that I can cover my tracks. And if someone figures out that the information is a fake—"

"Then suspicions will fall back on us," Draco stated. "Well we can switch to my back up plan. We'll get a witness to see that Givens commenced hostilities."

Hermione was taken aback that Draco had thought things through that much. "And do you have anyone in mind?" she asked.

"Actually yes. We don't want our witness' credibility to ever be at issue so I was thinking that Shacklebolt would be the best choice."

Hermione choked at those words, even though she had no food or drink in her mouth, so shocked she was at that suggestion. She hacked away for several minutes at the table, with Draco patting her back and asking if she was all right. "I'm fine, I'm fine," she said as she continued to cough.

"Are you positive? It sounds like something went down the wrong pipe." Draco was full of genuine concern towards her, and that irked her for some reason.

She rolled her eyes. "I know it sounds stupid, but I just breathed wrong. It happens sometimes." Left unsaid was that it only seemed to happen when someone truly made an outrageous suggestion in her presence. "All right then. Kingsley's a good choice in that no one would question his impartiality seeing he was the one who promoted Givens and all, but do you have any idea how we'd get him to agree to let us set up Givens?"

He answered her question with one of his own. "Did you manage to track down Creevey today?"

"Why yes, I did." She narrowed her eyes as she caught on to his line of thinking. "So you want me to get Creevey to tell Kingsley that he saw Givens attack Higgs that day in Diagon Alley."

"Yes, that's right. Without a doubt, he'll hem and haw and say that it's not enough to convict or even arrest his head Auror. That's when—"

"I'll spring the idea of a trap on him." She bit her lip as she thought of how Kingsley was likely to react to such a proposal. "I can see him going for that," she said slowly. "It's the sort of operation he would like, seeing how he was an Auror himself. And obviously if Givens has nothing to hide, then he—"

"Shouldn't attack us or anything. Actually you can even say it goes further than that. If he had nothing to hide, then he would tell Kingsley about the oracles having information about who is behind the murders," Draco finished with a flourish.

"Good point. Okay so I think I can convince Kingsley to agree to our little sting operation. That in turn should help us with timing it all. We're going to need someone to delay Givens after you send that owl to me so you can get over to the Ministry, so that way he can't just head over to your company and arrest you on the spot. A summons from his boss that he can't ignore would be perfect."

Draco winced. "I hadn't thought of that," he admitted. "I would very much appreciate us preventing that scenario. But what if Shacklebolt refuses to do that?"

"Then he's very likely not to agree to the whole thing in the first place. But I think he will. He's under enormous pressure by the pure-blood community to get this mystery solved. The last thing he wants is for rumors to start that he's letting the Aurors botch their investigation. He's a clever man. He should be able to see the downside to not acting on the information we'll have Dennis give him, and if he doesn't…well then I'll paint him a picture."

"All things considered though, another contingency plan wouldn't hurt," said Draco. "I never got to see my old Housemates today and so I was planning to do so tomorrow. I can track down some Polyjuice while I'm out. If for some reason Kingsley agrees to the plan but refuses to delay Givens, there'll be more than one of me floating around. I think you have some experience with that."

Hermione smiled. That she did. And it was ironic how it was Draco insisting on making their plan as fail proof as possible. _I guess I must be rubbing off on him too._ That thought made her happy.

"Okay. I think that's good. There's just one last problem for us to tackle," she told him.

"Let me guess," said Draco. "You're worried that the oracles might be injured in any battle between us and Givens."

"What?" she said. "Oh no. Actually that would be a good thing."

He looked askance at her. "A good thing? And here I thought you were interested in learning how the oracles functioned."

Hermione bit her lip. In truth, it was a tempting thought to build upon Merlose's research. But she couldn't help but be pragmatic about things, and overall the risk of leaving the oracles alone simply weren't worth it. "It's not that I'm not interested," she said slowly. "I just think it's a better idea for me to construct my own oracles, rather than rely upon Merlose's. I could never really feel safe using them."

Draco raised an eyebrow at that but otherwise remained silent so she forged on. "You see, I could never be certain….that is to say…." She stumbled over her words as she searched for a way to describe her fears. "Merlose won't be in a coma forever, and we can't count on him not remembering what you did to him. Indeed he might have programmed them—"

"Programmed them?" Draco interjected, not getting the Muggle terminology.

"That is to say he might have charmed them in some way to record his memories as they happened." She wrung her hands. "I know it sounds paranoid but—"

"An excess of caution when dealing with someone as ruthless as Merlose isn't a bad thing," Draco said for her.

She nodded her head. "Yes. That's exactly it. And so I think it would be better for me to make oracles for us from scratch. It will take awhile, but at least we will never have to worry about their loyalties."

"Can you do that?" he asked.

"Given enough time and money, yes," she said decisively. "And if I'm going to do that then it makes sense to not be careful around Merlose's oracles if a fight should break out. Indeed it would be better to wreak as much destruction on them as possible."

Draco pondered her suggestion for several minutes. She could see the wheels in his mind turning as he thought through its pros and cons. "Okay. That makes sense," he finally said. Hermione let out the breath she hadn't even been aware she had been holding. "It also makes things easier on us. We'll be more effective duelers if we don't have to bother with preserving the oracles."

"Which is a good thing as Givens is an expert dueler," Hermione noted.

"I've heard the same." Then a puzzled looked appeared on Draco's face. "So if that's not the problem you were referring to, what is?" he asked.

"I was talking about the problem of how I'll convince Dennis to talk to Kingsley in the first place." She sighed. That issue had been weighing on her mind ever since she had tracked the younger Gryffindor down. "I don't think he'll be too eager to put an end to a pure-blood problem, seeing how he's still bitter over his brother's death and all."

Draco's brows drew together as he gazed pensively at her. "Do you think he's working with Givens?"

"It's possible. We've been over that before. I still don't think it's likely. But it wouldn't be entirely bad for us if he was; he'd have more information to spill about Givens. It would also just be harder to convince him, that's all. That's part of the reason why I didn't confront him today. I wanted to put together the arguments I would use to convince him to do the right thing."

Draco snapped his fingers. "Right there. That's what should be the crux of your argument."

Hermione blinked. Once again she couldn't follow his reasoning. "Excuse me? What should be the crux of my argument?"

"That he should do the right thing. He's a Gryffindor, Hermione. You all are hopeless do-gooders."

"Not all of us," she said mildly.

"Not all of you. But Colin Creevey certainly was. He was willing to lay down his life fighting for what he thought was right." There was a twist to Draco's mouth as he said that. "Don't you think he'd be disappointed if his little brother wasn't willing to do the right thing?"

"Oh! I see. You mean for me to guilt Dennis into helping us."

"Shame rather. It's a more powerful emotion than guilt. You can always try shifting the blame if you feel guilty. But shame…you can't hide from it, no matter how much you might want to." Draco's eyes stared blankly at her, and Hermione could tell that he was affected by some powerful emotion. It occurred to her that once again he was speaking from personal experience.

"Don't be too obvious though," he added as an afterthought. "Then it might backfire on you and—"

"Then he'll shut down and never listen to me," she agreed.

"Exactly." Suddenly his mood lightened, and a smile crossed his face as mirth lit up his eyes. "And we really have been spending too much time together, haven't we, darling?"

"Oh? What makes you say that?" she asked coyly. She knew perfectly well what he was referring to you.

"Well I can't help but think that I miss those days when I could complete my own sentences." The expression on his face belied his words.

"Is that so? If that's the case, then perhaps you should recall your elves and tell them that I shan't be moving in for awhile."

"Maybe I should." They stared at each other for a long moment, then burst out into laughter. Their discussion soon turned to lighter matters for which Hermione was grateful. Her day had been long and tiring, and the rest of the week would be more of the same. She knew she had a difficult task ahead of her tomorrow, and so she needed to take time tonight to relax and rid herself of the stress of the day. After a long soak in the tub, she was more than ready to close her eyes when she crawled into bed beside Draco. He was very tired too for he fell fast asleep after throwing an arm around her.

She was only too willing to follow his example.

****

Hermione could feel her heart pounding in her chest so hard that she wouldn't be surprised if the Muggle she passed could hear it. She took a deep breath and tried to center herself. She hadn't been this nervous in a long while. But then she had to convince Dennis to come clean about what he saw that day in Diagon Alley. Their plan depended on it.

She winded her way back along the path she had taken yesterday to the Creeveys. It was late in the afternoon, and the sun was just beginning to set. She had left later than yesterday to make sure that Dennis to be there when she knocked on the door for she didn't want to wait. Waiting would only increase her nervousness.

_And that wouldn't be a good thing. I need to be calm and collected._ She sighed. That was much easier said than done. It was almost funny how she hadn't been this nervous even back when she was arranging for the marriage law to pass. _But then again, back then, no one's life was at stake. If I fail...well who knows who might be next? Certainly Zabini and Parkinson look to be prime targets for Givens, and I really don't want to see that come to pass._

All too soon she was approaching the Creeveys' front door. She could feel tendrils of magic reaching out to touch her, testing if she had any active or passive spells upon her. She had taken the same precautions as she had before, and so no alarms were activated as she stepped on to the Creevey property. Pushing her worries aside, she summoned up her courage and knocked loudly on the front door.

"Be right there," a female voice rang out. A moment later, the door swung open, revealing an older woman with a wan face, tired eyes, and dark hair streaked with gray. Hermione could see the family resemblance immediately.

"Mrs Creevey?" she said tentatively. "Hello. I'm Hermione Granger. I was in the same house as Dennis back at school, and I was wondering if I could see him."

The older woman's eyes narrowed as she regarded Hermione suspiciously. Dennis must have warned her about wizards coming to visit—although she was probably inclined to be wary to begin with seeing what had happened to Colin. Hermione opened her mouth to let the poor woman know she meant no harm, when suddenly Dennis made an appearance.

"It's all right, Mum, it's all right," said Dennis. "Hermione's all right. She's an old friend of ours and one of the best friends of Harry Potter. It was her idea that we all get together to learn how to defend ourselves."

"A whole bunch of good that did Colin," Mrs Creevey muttered angrily.

Hermione looked down and away, a lump of guilt forming in her throat. Colin's death was not her fault—she knew that it wasn't for she had had her hands full during that battle—but she couldn't help but feel that there was more she could have done. "I'm sorry," she half-whispered. "I…I—"

"You've nothing to be sorry for," said Dennis. "I know that if there was anything else you could have done to save Colin, to save anyone, you would've done it."

She smiled weakly up at him, grateful for his understanding. "May I come in? I wanted to talk to you about…well lots of things really."

"Oh?" His mother crossed her arms, broadcasting her doubts. "Such as?"

"Mother! There's no need for that," said Dennis. "Sorry," he said.

"No," said Hermione. She addressed her next words to Mrs Creevey. "I can understand why you'd worry. But I thought I'd catch up with Dennis and all. I'm getting married, you see, and so I was wondering if he'd be interested in a side job as a photographer for it."

Immediately the older woman's eyes lightened up. "A small job, you say?" She turned to her son hopefully and prodded him. "Dennis, you'd be interested in doing something like that, wouldn't you?"

But now it was his turn to look at Hermione suspiciously. "Maybe," he said flatly. "If I have nothing else planned that day."

Hermione sighed. "Let's talk about it, shall we? I imagine there are several issues you'd want to go over before you accept."

"Indeed. Let's talk in my room." He turned around. After a moment, his mother stepped aside to let Hermione in. Hermione padded after the other Gryffindor, following him as he led her upstairs and into his room.

Her heart broke as she entered. There were two beds—one that had been used and the other which looked to be in pristine condition. She knew instantly whom the pristine bed belonged to. It simply could not be healthy for the poor boy to live and sleep with the memory of his dead brother such a tangible presence in the room. It was no wonder why Dennis was still so very bitter about the end of the war.

He coughed nervously as he saw the direction of her stare. "Mum…she couldn't bear the thought of getting rid of any of Colin's things," he mumbled in explanation.

"But what about you?"

"Me? Well I'm all right with it. It was…difficult at first. But it's good, it's good. It's like there's something left of him still in this world, something that can't be forgotten, that can't be left behind, no matter what the rest of the world might want." He shuffled over to his bed and sat down on its edge. He waved at her to take a seat across from him on Colin's bed.

Hermione gulped as a shiver ran down her spine. She didn't particularly want to take that seat. She remained rooted by the doorway. "Oh no, I'm good," she said. "After sitting at my desk all day, it makes for a nice change to stand."

Dennis looked at her sadly, not fooled in the least as to the real reason why she insisted on standing. "You can take the chair over there," he said. He pointed towards a corner of the room where there was a desk and chair. On top of the desk sat a computer. _That must be the computer he used to build his website_, she surmised. Hermione decided that it would be rude to refuse his second invitation. She walked across the bedroom. She pulled the chair away from the desk and then turned it around before sitting on it so she would face Dennis. He stared straight at her. Unnerved at the sadness of his gaze, Hermione looked away from him, not knowing quite what to say. Silence filled the room for several long minutes.

Finally Dennis spoke up. "So you wanted to talk about your wedding?"

"Oh yes," said Hermione. "I was wondering if you'd be one of our official photographers. My family will be there, you see, and so if I could get someone like you who…well someone who would be genuinely welcoming towards them and all. That would be ideal."

"So you're really going through with it," Dennis said.

Hermione's head shot up. "Pardon?"

"I never thought I'd see the day you'd marry Malfoy," he continued. "Even if Malfoy has something on you…I thought you'd snap your wand first."

"Oh," said Hermione in a small voice. "It upsets you, doesn't it? You feel betrayed, don't you?"

Dennis gave a snort of laughter—an ugly, sour sound. "Betrayed? Oh yes. I thought we won, Hermione. And yet…and yet…Colin's murderer is still walking around while he's six feet under. Tell me where's the justice in that?"

She had no answer for that.

Dennis got up and advanced towards her, anger written into every line of his face. Hermione instinctively reached for her wand, to have it ready, although she remained seated. He stopped right in front of her, hands clenched into fists at his side.

"Tell me," he said, "what did we fight for? What did Colin die for? Cause it seems like we've lost even though we've won. Nothing's changed, Hermione, nothing's changed. My brother's dead and gone, and the whole world is just as bad as it was before. Pure-bloods like Malfoy"—he spat the name as though it were a curse—"think they rule the world while Muggle-borns like you and I can do nothing to stop them."

"So you think that we should still be fighting." It was a statement, not a question. It was obvious that Dennis still held a grudge against pure-bloods. She just hoped that it was only a grudge, that he hadn't been an accomplice of Givens all along.

He jerked his head up and down. "Yes we should be. They are. Why not us?"

She pounced upon that opening. Even if she was facing a worst case scenario in which Dennis had actively aided Givens, there was still a chance she could turn him to their side. Draco had given her the how—use Colin's memory to shame him—and there was no better place than this bedroom to do so. "Yes we should," she said. "We won the war. Now it's time to make sure we win the peace."

"Yes!" he cried in exultation. "Now that's the Hermione Granger I know!"

She pressed on. "But in seeking to win the peace, we have to take care and not sink to the Death Eaters' level." She lifted her eyes to his. She knew now what to say. "If we resort to their tactics…if we hide in the dark so that we can slaughter them effortlessly…then we would've become no better than they were. We would become the new oppressors. Voldemort's victory would be complete."

She rose to her feet as her voice grew stronger. "Colin wouldn't have wanted that," she stated in ringing tones. "He fought to end such terror not to perpetrate it. You would be betraying his memory if you did something like that."

The boy in front of her trembled, transfixed by her words. She let her voice drop, speaking in almost a whisper. "And Colin was a Gryffindor to the core. If he saw something wrong…he wouldn't remain silent. He would speak up and fix it."

Dennis' shoulders began to shake, and he tucked his head down into his chest. "Colin would. But I'm not my brother," he all but gasped.

"No you're not," she agreed. "But you're a Gryffindor too."

"Not like him," he claimed, shaking his head wildly. "Colin was so brave, sneaking back to fight and all. I…I was too scared."

"You were too young," she corrected him kindly. "You were two years behind him and didn't have half as much schooling as he. But you're not that young anymore. You're old enough and strong enough to do the right thing." She waited a moment before carrying on. "You saw that day, didn't you, the person responsible for all the murders."

"Yes," he said in a strangled voice. "I did. I did. And I didn't know what to do—I don't know what to do. I should hate them, hate them all for everything they've done. If it weren't for them, Colin would still be here! But in that last moment…just before the flash of green hit him…his eyes, they were…he was…."

"A scared boy who didn't want to die. Just like you…and just like Colin," Hermione said quietly.

"Yes!" He crumpled to the floor, crying freely. Hermione bent down to console him the best she could. She had done her job here. Dennis would help them. Once he had pulled himself together, he would do the right thing so that no more young wizards died before their time.

****

Draco had to admit that he was more than just a little bit disappointed in his former housemates. In fact, he was downright embarrassed by them. _No wonder that Flint was their leader. Even if his ideas were half-baked, at least he had some common sense._

It had been far too easy to track the bunch of them down.

"Really Goyle?" said Draco with a sneer on his lips. "Is this really the best you can do? Hiding out in your gran's basement? That's a new low, even for you."

There was no response. He shook his head in disgust as he realized that his old friend was passed out on the couch. He strode forward confident that he could handle the situation before him. Roughly he shook Goyle awake.

"Huh? Wha? What is it?" Goyle sputtered as he came to. Draco could smell the firewhisky on his breath. Goyle's eyes widened as he recognized just who had woken him up.

"Gah! Malfoy!" Goyle recoiled in terror, all but falling off the couch. "I knew you'd come for me. I was prepared for this," he ranted, reaching for something behind him. He sported an ugly grin as he found what he was looking for. "_Avada Kedavra_!" he cried.

"Goyle, you idiot!" Draco reached out and took the empty bottle away from his old school chum. "You need a wand to cast a spell, remember?" He waved the bottle in Goyle's face for emphasis. The other wizard continued to cower fearfully. "And would you stop that cringing? I'm not going to hurt you, you know," Draco said derisively.

"You've got that right," said a voice behind him. Draco spun around to see Miles Bletchley and Adrian Pucey, both with their wands trained on him. "Told you he'd eventually land in our trap," continued Bletchley. "Now you throw down your wand, if you know what's good for you, Malfoy. And don't even think about trying to use it. You're not fast enough to hex us both."

"I wouldn't dream of it," drawled Draco. Then he promptly threw the bottle at Pucey's head, ducking to avoid Bletchley's spell which of course hit Goyle instead. He charged forward, dodging right so he could grab Bletchley's arm, twisting it behind his back until he dropped his wand from the pain. Draco shoved Bletchley at the still-staggering Pucey, effectively taking out both wizards.

Only then did Draco draw his own wand out of its holster. Lazily he twirled it around. "Well then. Now that we've dispensed with the pleasantries, shall we get on to business, gentlemen?"

Three sets of hate-filled eyes glared up at him. "So you're going to finish us off like you did all the rest?" spat out Pucey.

Draco was taken aback. "What did you say?"

"You heard me," said Pucey. "Don't think that we're not on to your deception."

"Yeah," added Bletchley. "We figured it was you killing us all off after you took out Flint after he attacked your Mudblood. And to think that I once thought you were cunning. Instead you don't even bother to hide the fact that you're slaughtering your old housemates."

"He's probably proud of the fact. His entire family is a bunch of traitors," Pucey declared. "Too bad Flint didn't suspect a thing, the poor sod. He should've seen it coming, seeing how fast you were to shack up with that bitch after that blasted marriage law was passed and all."

By now Draco had determined just what the three idiots before him were talking about. "Morganna's tits," he swore. "I always knew Goyle was thick, but I thought the two of you were brighter than that. Guess I was wrong. No wonder why Flint was your leader. He was the only one capable of original thought!"

A slight movement caught his attention. From the corner of his eye, he saw Bletchley inch towards his fallen wand. Draco took a step forward and firmly placed his foot on top of the wand. "There'll be none of that now," he admonished them. "Seeing how well it went for you before, you should hesitate before you try to hex me again."

"What do we have to lose?" growled Bletchley.

"Yeah, we're already as good as dead," grumbled Pucey. The two of them were like a Greek chorus.

Draco cast his eyes skyward. "Sometimes I wonder why I even bother," he said under his breath. He returned his focus to the fools in front of him. "Now listen up and listen closely because I don't care to repeat myself," he said imperiously. "I am not going to kill you."

That earned him a snort of disbelief from Bletchley. "Ha! You're going to torture us first?"

"Hardly," Draco replied dryly. "The three of you seem to be laboring under the misconception that I killed your compatriots. I did not."

"And we're going to believe you because what? We're stupid and believe everything we hear?" asked Bletchley.

"The first part of your statement is startlingly accurate," Draco noted. "But moving on, even if I wanted to kill you"—left unsaid was the thought that the notion of ridding the world of their collective idiocy was becoming more attractive by the second—"I wouldn't do so here, in Goyle's gran's house."

"And why is that? Sweet on the old lady?"

"Close but no. While I can't say whether or not she'd regret Greg's passing, she would never forgive me for the stench of blood would never wash out. And that simply would not do, seeing how her elves make the best treats and all."

"That's right. You were always wanting to visit when you were little," Goyle piped up. "You never did like to share back then either," he went on with a frown.

"So if you're not here to kill us," Pucey said slowly, "then why are you here?"

"To check up on Goyle of course. We used to be friends, you know."

"Yeah. That was before your family turned traitor," Goyle snorted.

"Slytherins do what they need to survive. There has never been any shame in that," Draco retorted. "Although the three of you seemed to have forgotten that, with the way you agreed to Flint's madcap schemes and all."

"Ever heard of something called hypocrisy?" snapped Bletchley. "Flint's plan wasn't mad; it was brilliant. But I guess when a Malfoy does what he needs to survive, that's just being Slytherin. When anyone makes such compromises, it's being stupid."

"I have no such double standards," Draco replied coolly. "You don't need to follow Flint's plans to survive. You can always choose to follow the law and find a nice half-blood or Muggle-born witch to settle down with." He held up a hand to forestall their protests but to no avail. So he was forced to wait for them to shut up as it simply wouldn't do for him to shout. He had an image to maintain in front of them and all.

"My next question to you was going to be if you realized the consequences of following Flint's scheme, but that is no longer necessary. From your protests, it is apparent that you do not. Your families will be outcasts, shunned by society, by all the powerful old families—not just mine—who have complied with the law. It's already happening. All of you have giant targets painted on your backs. That's why the murderer is going after you all first. If he targeted someone like me or Theo or Zabini—any of us who have tried to get back into society's good graces—our families are in a much better position to demand he be brought to justice."

"And here I thought the Ministry was already trying to track the bastard down," pointed out Pucey.

"Ah yes. Of course. With all available resources, I believe they've said. That is a pretty lie. A Slytherin must have thought of it." He leaned towards his old schoolmates and continued on in a whisper. "No one has seemed to insist yet that they use all resources instead of all available resources. Trust me, if any of us are attacked, our families will first press the Ministry on that issue while using their own shadier resources on the back end."

He leaned back. "But that is neither here nor there. Personally I would prefer for it to come to that. I would like to see the murderer on his way to Azkaban sooner rather than later for I harbor no illusions that he won't come after me eventually. Which, I might add, is another reason why I'm not the person who killed Flint. He was killed while on the way to his cell to Azkaban. Even if I were consumed with thoughts of revenge, I wouldn't set foot in that place." He shuddered at the thought of that. He had had enough of Dementors to last him a lifetime.

Finally they were starting to believe him. Draco could tell that by looking at their eyes. Inwardly he grinned with glee. This was proving to be a very productive visit. Not only was he re-establishing ties to wizards who might prove useful in the future, he was certain that the Auror who had been trailing him today would report back that he had visited the house of one of Merlose's old schoolmates.

Now if Hermione was keeping up her end and had got Creevey to confess, then their plan to fell Givens was almost complete. Draco couldn't wait until the evening when he could confirm with her that they were ready to set their trap tomorrow.

****

"Thank you for coming forward with this information. I appreciate you doing so despite the great personal risk to yourself, Mr Creevey," said Kingsley Shacklebolt gravely. "I fear, however, for your safety and so I must insist you remain here for the time being."

"But my parents—they'll worry," protested Dennis.

"There will be a phone in your room. You can call them from there." Kingsley sighed. "Although I suppose it will be best for me to relocate them as well. We'll do that first thing tomorrow morning. Now if you could please follow Dot"—he waved a hand towards the House elf who had appeared—"then she'll show you to your room."

Hermione waited for Dennis to exit before speaking. "I wasn't aware that you had House elves here," she said mildly.

"They come with the residence," Kingsley replied. "I've found Dot and her brothers to be most loyal. It will probably be them who I send tomorrow to fetch the elder Creeveys, seeing how I can't trust my own Aurors anymore."

Hermione decided to prod the Minister to see what his plans were. "So you're not going to–"

"Arrest Givens? No, I'm afraid not. While I believe young Dennis, I have my doubts that the Wizengamot will be inclined to do the same. Givens has quite a few friends on that body. No, I'll need more evidence before I take that step."

"But surely leaving Givens in his position can't possibly be an option. What will the old pure-blood families say once they learn that you knew who the murderer was but didn't do a thing to stop him. It'll be the start of a new war," Hermione said.

"I know, Hermione," he replied, sounding much aggrieved. "But I think I know who Givens' next target will be—a young Auror that he's recently suspended. If I can catch him in the act, then—"

"Great minds think alike," Hermione said with a smile. "Because that's exactly the sort of plan that Draco and I've put together, although we'd be risking ourselves, not Blaise Zabini." She proceeded to outline the trap that she and Draco had conceived for the head Auror. "There are risks of course, but overall I think it's as safe as possible. I'll have Draco to back me up and vice versa. Besides, if you just wait, there's always the risk that Givens might have someone else in mind for his next target other than Zabini."

Kingsley looked at her crossly. "Care to tell me how long you've known that Givens has been behind all this?"

"Known? Since this afternoon. Suspected…well since after Flint died really. But then I wasn't the only one who thought the circumstances surrounding Flint's death were strange." She shuddered. "I'm just glad that we got Draco and Theo out of that madman's clutches that night."

Kingsley blanched at that thought. "Dear Merlin. That would've been a nightmare," he said. "I can just see…." He trailed off, shaking his head. "Very well then. Since you and your fiancé have all but set up a trap for Givens already, we might as well use it before he can strike again. Is there anything you need me to do on my end?" he asked.

"Yes," said Hermione promptly. "Givens has been intercepting my owls, and so we expect him to do the same tomorrow. However, we can't have him rushing to the oracles or trying to arrest Draco so—"

Kingsley waved that concern aside "I can take care of that. I can find some reason to call him into my office," he said. "That actually works out well for us. I can call him into my office and then follow him once he leaves and witness whatever his reaction is to the oracles. When did you say Malfoy would send the owl?"

"Around three. That will give me a couple of hours to rig the oracles with the false information."

"Hmm. I see another problem. Are you certain that you can do that? I've heard from the Unspeakables who've worked with them this week claim that the parchment used to communicate with the oracles is no longer functioning."

"I think I have an advantage over them." Hermione smiled. That she did. Unlike her colleagues, she knew that the oracles were simply very advanced computers. She doubted that any of them would know how to turn a computer on, much less program it. However she didn't want to reveal to Kingsley that particular secret behind the oracles. Instead she said, "I've made some advances in my chosen field of study. If there's something wrong with the control parchment, then my analysis spells should allow me to diagnose and solve the problem."

"That's all very well and good, but if for some reason you're unable to do so, owl me immediately. That way we can call the whole operation off," said Kingsley.

"But my owl would be read—"

Kingsley shook his head. "Givens doesn't have the authority to intercept any owls addressed to me. No one in the Ministry does. Any owl you send to me is safe, and then I can advise your fiancé of the change in plans."

Hermione nodded her agreement. It never hurt to have a way to call things off in case something went wrong.

"Good," said Kingsley. "Then let's go over one more time how this operation is supposed to work. I want to be positive that we've got everything properly coordinated." The two of them proceeded to do so, working out a couple more kinks in the plan. By the time Hermione left, she was worn out from strategizing.

However, there was a certain feeling of satisfaction in her gut that made all the work she had put in today worthwhile. Givens was finally going to be brought to justice tomorrow. It was about time.

****

**Author's note:** Thanks for reading this far! Reviews would be very much appreciated. The next chapter (which is the penultimate chapter, if you don't count the epilogue) will be up next week. I plan to be updating once a week from here on out so I can be finished before nanowrimo. :D

My thanks goes out to everyone who reviewed the last chapter: Kae-Lae, crimsoneyes44, kazfeist, nonnonentity, littledollface, Ceralyn, LeaFairy124, Bauerbaby24, wickedwench1, gitgit, ebbe04, Kandygurl04, Dixiecharmer, Nyoko, SauerKirsche, sunshineemomix, alina290, Chanteur d'ombre, jewelledhunter, Reshmi Solaris, and M.


	35. Maybe I'm A Lion

**Ambition's End: Maybe I'm A Lion**

**Disclaimer:** Only the plot is mine. The characters, setting, and everything else belong to JKR.

****

"You're wearing that today?" Draco lifted an eyebrow as he gazed upon his fiancée's outfit. "It's a very good thing I'm not marrying you for your fashion sense," he muttered to himself.

"Yes, I'm wearing _this_ today," replied Hermione. "It's very sensible, seeing how I'm likely to be dueling this afternoon."

"I suppose so." He pulled a face. "I was kind of hoping you'd go for something a little less sensible," he admitted. "And maybe something more like that." He pointed towards a set of scarlet robes in her closet.

Hermione rolled her eyes. While the dress robes Draco had indicated were very nice and all, they were hardly sensible. She could just see herself tripping over its many weaves and folds. "And how am I supposed to be able to fight in that?" she asked.

"I don't know. Maybe you could be a distraction? Like you could distract Givens by a well-timed flash of your legs?"

"Something tells me you'd be more distracted than him."

"Does that mean the answer is no?" Draco looked up at her, his eyes wide, all but begging for her to change her mind.

"That's right," said Hermione. "Don't worry, darling. If we win tonight, then I'll wear it tomorrow night when you take me out to celebrate."

He started to pout despite that promise. "What's the point in that? I was planning to celebrate tonight." He heaved a sigh. "You like to take the fun out of everything, don't you?"

Both of Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "Fun? You think there's fun to be had in risking our lives to put away a madman?" She marched over and placed a hand on his forehead. "Strange. You don't seem to be running a fever, but yet that remark was positively Gryffindorish."

"Is that even a word?" he asked, a tad snidely. Then he shrugged. "I suppose it's a bit out of character for me. It must be the novelty of it all since I've never done anything like this."

"That must be it," Hermione agreed. She returned to her preparations, carefully placing her usual wand in its holster on her arm before strapping on an additional holster, which carried her spare wand, on to her right leg.

"You're taking two wands?" asked Draco from behind her.

"Yes. You never know when that might come in handy. That way I won't be helpless in case I'm hit by a disarming spell," she explained.

"Huh, I never thought of that. I might try that next time," he said.

"Hopefully we can prevent a next time from ever happening. And you can try it this time, if you can find a spare wand by this afternoon," she pointed out.

"It might be suspicious if I'm caught shopping for wands this morning," replied Draco. "So I'll have to leave off trying that, in case next time ever comes. So I'll be sending the owl to you at three o'clock sharp, right?"

"Yes," she replied. "And if I run into any problems on my end, I'll owl Kingsley and he'll pass the message along to you."

"Likewise. But with any luck, that won't be necessary."

"While I agree with the sentiment, I intend to make my own luck," she said grimly. Her morning toilette complete, she turned around to face Draco, who was just sliding his wand into place. "All set?" she asked him.

He spared one last glance at the mirror to check his hair. "Yes. I'll see you later, love." He stepped forward, then bent his head down to grace her lips with a simple kiss before Apparating away. Hermione allowed herself one soft sigh of contentment before following his example and Apparating to work.

****

Hermione waited outside the room that contained the oracles, impatiently tapping her foot against the floor. She checked her watch again and frowned.

Her turn with the oracles was supposed to have started five whole minutes ago.

"Blast," she swore under her breath. While she yearned to barge in, she restrained herself. She would prefer not to make any more enemies if possible. Merlin knew she had enough of those in her department as it was. "Five minutes more thought, then that's it," she muttered.

Four minutes later, she was beginning to think that she would have no choice but to storm the room. She was saved from doing so when suddenly the double doors swung open on their own. Out strode Janus Caraway, one of the older Unspeakables. "Good luck," he told her as he passed her by. "The control parchment still isn't functioning."

"Thanks," she replied. He gave no sign that he had heard her. Hermione took a deep breath, then pushed the doors open and walked through.

The oracles were nine in number and resembled monoliths more than any computer that Hermione had seen. The nine pillars were assembled in a circle. Next to each pillar was a desk and chair, with a piece of parchment along with a quill resting upon the desk. While Hermione had never seen the oracles in action, as Merlose had never deigned to allow her even that much access to them, she had heard from her friends in the department that one would write upon the parchment to communicate with the oracles. Images would then be shown on the smooth, white marble of the oracles in response, though often the meaning of such images would be unclear.

Hermione walked over to the closest oracle. She could hear a humming sound coming from it, and she smiled. The oracles were indeed computers. She could tell that much from the sound. Picking up the control parchment, she wrote down a simple question, asking it where her friend Harry was at the moment. There was no response.

"Seems like Caraway was right about the parchment not working," she said softly to herself. "Now let's see if I can figure out why." She drew her wand. Closing her eyes, she began casting her analysis charms. After that spell sequence was complete, she opened them once more.

"Gah!" she cried and promptly shut them again. There was so much magic in the room that it was blinding. Quickly she cast a dimming spell, so the magical fields wouldn't appear so bright. She opened her eyes again and took a look at the closest oracle.

With all her spells in place, she could tell from the shifting magical fields that the marble surface of the oracles was a very powerful illusion that had been in place for ages. She had to squint her eyes to look behind that powerful spell. It took her some time, but eventually she was able to see that each oracle was simply a rack that housed several computer clusters. Multiple cooling charms were set to keep each unit functional, and Hermione could only marvel at the combination of technology and magic.

In front of the oracle, there was a trio of monitors floating in midair. Hermione surmised that the monitors were responsible for the images that would appear on the oracles. Black cords connected the monitors to the back of the oracle. Hermione spared a glance at the control parchment. She could make out faint traces of a spell that once resided on the parchment, a spell that also hooked up to the back of the oracle.

Hermione had seen enough. She dispelled her analysis charms for she could feel a headache starting to set in from seeing so much magic. She paced around the oracle until she reached the spot where everything hooked up. She reached out gingerly, her hand sliding past the marble illusion and grazing the rack beneath. Carefully she felt around, hoping to find whatever it was that the control parchment used to be attached to. She fumbled around for several minutes before her fingers brushed up against something that felt familiar. "Aha!" she cried and pulled the object out.

It was a keyboard.

Hermione took a look at the keyboard, then back at the control parchment. "I see," she said. "Merlose must have charmed the parchment so that whatever was written down there was transmitted to the keyboard. I wish I knew the spell he used to do that," she said wistfully.

She untangled the cord wrapped around the keyboard and set it down on the ground. Then she took a step back and pondered her next step. She went back and forth on whether she should try to hook up the control parchment or if it would be better to remove the illusion from the oracles.

At first glance, it seemed strange the spell over the monitors was solidly in place while the one on the parchment had faded. However it made sense if one assumed that Merlose's goal was to prevent anyone else from being able to operate the oracles if he wasn't around. The spell on the parchment was probably something he recast every time he used the oracles. He didn't make it permanent because he didn't want anyone asking the oracles to explain how they functioned in case something happened to him.

But that was also why he had to make the illusion spell as permanent as possible. He couldn't risk a Muggle-born viewing the oracles without the illusion and then figuring out that they were merely computers. That meant the spell he had used on the racks and monitors must have been very powerful indeed. That fit in with her experience; it had been extremely difficult for her to look behind the illusion even with the help of her analysis charms. That meant it would be difficult, if not impossible, for her to pull the illusion off of the oracles.

Hermione didn't want to go to the trouble of dispelling the illusion for that would reveal the secret behind the oracles to all. By the same measure, she also didn't want to bother with figuring out what spell had connected the control parchment to the keyboard. That would make it easier for her colleagues to use the oracles. So that left her with the choice of working with the oracles as is.

_That's just as well. I'll need as much time as possible just to set up that false information_, she noted silently to herself. _The only thing is...it would be nice if I had the parchment working when Givens arrives. I don't want him to see me using the keyboard—and Kingsley is supposed to be watching as well and it'll be all downhill from there. Okay. First things first. I have got to program the oracles for them to say that Givens is the culprit when asked. After that's done, then I can work on reattaching the control parchment._

Her decision made, Hermione pulled over a chair and then started to type, awkwardly balancing the keyboard on her lap. After a few minutes, she recast her analysis charm along with the appropriate dimming spell. It would be easier for her to figure out what was going on with the oracles if she could sort of see the monitors instead of relying on the images projected on the oracle's surface.

It took her awhile, but eventually she figured out that the oracle in front of her was running a complicated, predictive program, which would parse the question asked of it and then make a series of calculations to determine the most likely outcome. If more processing power was needed for any particular question, then the oracle would call upon the processing power of its siblings for help. Though she didn't have time to look at the code in depth, she surmised that the accuracy of an answer depended on using just the right syntax in one's question. Thus Merlose was renowned for getting the most accurate answers since he was the one responsible for creating that syntax.

Hermione closed down the program. Ideally she would have liked to hack the program and rig it to accuse Givens when anyone asked who the murderer was. Unfortunately the code was too much for her to unravel in the space of a single afternoon. She had also tried asking that question to see how the oracles would answer, but all she got was an annoying 'not enough data to compute' error.

She started typing in a program she spent the morning sketching out. The program was intended to mimic the how the oracles worked, but it would also answer that Givens was the person responsible for all the murders when asked about that subject. She took care to ensure that the program would correctly answer the preliminary questions that Unspeakables used to ascertain that any particular oracle was functioning properly.

She tried the program out after she finished typing it in. Hermione grimaced. There were quite a few bugs for her to work out. She worked feverishly, well aware that she only had so much time to get everything set up right. The fact that she didn't know when they would next get another chance like this one to put Givens away for good only added to the pressure she was feeling.

Finally—finally!—she was done. The program worked. She quickly checked the time and then frowned once more. She had barely ten minutes left before Draco was supposed to send that owl of his. _That's hardly any time to figure out how to connect the control parchment to the keyboard. There's a whole bevy of charms Merlose could have used._

Then it hit her. The most obvious way for the parchment to communicate with the keyboard was through the use of a modified protean charm. It took her several tries, but after she realized that a buffer spell was needed to keep the keyboard from jamming up, she was able to reconnect the control parchment to the keyboard. She heaved a sigh of relief, happy that she was able to do everything she told both Draco and Kingsley she could do. She would have hated it if she had to admit otherwise.

Suddenly she heard a scratching sound come from the door. _That must be Draco's owl_, she thought. She walked over to open the door, and as she had thought, an owl was hovering in front of it, a letter clasped within his claws. She took the letter, apologizing to the owl for she had no treats, and then opened it. She hastily scanned its contents, double checking to see where and when she was supposed to meet Draco to make certain nothing had changed.

Nothing had. Hermione went back over to the oracle she had been working on so she could put everything back in place. Once that was done, there was nothing left for her to do but to go meet Draco and bring him back, hopefully before Givens got here.

****

Draco scowled as he read his letter once more. Never had he spent so much time writing anything! It was almost insane how particular he was being with the letter. _But then again, better safe than sorry. I don't want to put down anything that might tip him off to our plans._

Deciding he didn't like the second paragraph, Draco got up and crumpled the parchment into a small ball. Then he tossed it in his fireplace and set it aflame. Returning to his desk, he pulled out a fresh sheet and started again. For the next several minutes, his office was quiet except for the sound of his quill scratching away.

"There," he said as he finished. "Funny how hard it is to sound like myself," he groused. "Always seemed to have come naturally before." He folded the letter up, then placed it in an envelope. After sealing the envelope, he quickly scrawled out Hermione's name on front.

He walked over to the window, where his owl was waiting. Draco tied the letter to his owl's leg. Once the letter was secure, Draco opened the window and the owl took off with its fateful delivery.

Draco let out a deep breath. So far, everything seemed to be going according to plan. Kingsley hadn't sent him any messages and so that should mean that Hermione was able to do whatever it was she had to do to the oracles. He checked the time and decided he might as well start getting ready to go because even under the best case scenario, they would face some fighting before the night was over.

And in the worst case scenario—Draco allowed himself a smirk. He had a few surprises up his sleeves if it came to that. He didn't have a spare wand like Hermione, but then magic wasn't going to be the only weapon he was taking to the fight.

One way or another, Givens wasn't going to be a problem after tonight.

****

"Will that be all, sir?" Givens ground his teeth, thoroughly irritated that the Minister had seen fit to pull him into this sham of a conference just after he had read the Malfoy brat's owl. He had barely had time to replace the letter and let the owl go.

"Yes, yes," said Kingsley. "That will do for now. But in the future, I would appreciate it if you could notify me before you decide to suspend one of our precious few Aurors. Though the Zabinis were neutral during the war, they still have many powerful allies. I suspect the boy might be a nuisance for some time since the proper procedures weren't followed."

"My sincere apologies. I assure you it will never happen again." He sketched a bow to the Minister and then promptly left the room.

Inwardly Givens fumed as he stalked away. He should have just found a way to get rid of Zabini, maybe by staging a raid on the house where the Parkinson slag was staying at. _Oh well. There will be time for that later. First things first. I need to get over to the oracles to see what sort of evidence Merlose stuffed on them. I'll need to keep the Granger girl around for that. But afterwards...well it's too bad for her really. Getting mixed up with the wrong type like she did._

Givens was too busy gloating that he never noticed the shadow that was discreetly following his every move.

****

Hermione met Draco at the atrium at the appointed time to lead him to the oracles. They walked side by side, falling silent after greetings had been exchanged. Hermione knew that she was on edge, and she was willing to bet Draco was too.

"Are we there yet?" Draco asked plaintively as they turned into yet another hallway.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "How old are you again? And no, not yet. I told you we're taking the long way to make sure none of my co-workers see us."

"Do you think they'd stop us?"

She shook her head. "Not a chance. I wouldn't let them. But still…I don't feel like dealing with their questions. I've only got so much time with the oracles today, and I don't want to waste it on something like that."

"Competitive doesn't begin to describe your department, does it?" he asked.

"You have no idea. We go left here," she said, gesturing as she spoke.

"Lovely. Yet another endless hallway. Who knew the Ministry was so big?"

"Actually I think it's just our department. We need a lot of room for our experiments, and so we get it," she said. "Not to mention the fact it's sort of an added form of security for the oracles if they're hidden in a maze. But don't worry. We're almost there."

That caused him to raise an eyebrow. "Almost being a relative term?"

"No. Almost being the next right." They turned right and just like that, they were standing in front of the doors leading to the oracles. She pushed open the doors and walked in, with Draco trailing behind her. She made a beeline towards the oracle she had been working on before. "We have to use this one," she said. "All of the control parchments went down, and so the oracles couldn't be used. It took me some time, but I was able to figure out how to reconnect them though."

"Do you think you could reconnect the others?" asked Draco.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Most likely, yes. But why should I do something like that? I intend to disconnect them before I leave. I'm not going to do my fellow Unspeakables any favors." A chill ran down her back, and she knew that they were being watched. Givens must have arrived, drawn to their trap by Draco's letter. Hermione took a deep, calming breath before continuing. It wouldn't do to let Givens know that they were prepared for him. "So should I go on and ask the oracle then?"

Draco nodded his head. She could tell from the expression on his face, from the way his brows were tightly drawn together, that he also realized that they weren't alone. "Let's do that," he said. "I don't want to go running to the Minister, shouting how we've found the killer, only to find that my information was wrong."

Hermione sat down at the desk and picked up the quill. She willed herself to be calm, for her fingers not to tremble, even though she knew they could be attacked at any time. That was what they wanted after all. An unprovoked attack was the ammunition they needed to send Givens away for good, and it would only further serve their purposes if the oracles sustained damage in the fight. With these thoughts racing through her head, she scrawled on to the parchment the question of who was behind the murders.

They didn't have to wait long for a response. Her program worked as well as it had during her tests. The false marble surface of the oracle flickered to reveal Givens' face.

"The Head Auror," Draco intoned as though surprised, continuing the farce. "I always thought there was something suspicious about him." He tugged at Hermione's arm, pulling her out of her seat. "Come on now. You can get us in to see Shacklebolt, right?"

"I'm afraid I can't allow you to do that," a cold voice rang out. Hermione slowly turned around to see Givens standing behind them, his wand pointed straight at her.

"Givens!" she cried. "How did you know we were going to ask the oracles?" she asked. She knew she had to get him talking. They needed to get a confession out of him in order to ensure the Wizengamot would return a guilty verdict.

Givens snorted derisively. "You're not as observant as I've been led to believe," he said with a sneer. "I've been intercepting your owls for almost two months now, just waiting for him"—he jerked his head in Draco's direction—"to slip up. A good thing too, as it turns out, otherwise I'd have never known that Merlose was on to me." He smirked at them, and Hermione struck with the urge to wipe it off his face. "I don't know who it was who attacked the old man, but it looks like I owe that person a favor. I won't ever make the mistake again of not keeping track of him—that is if he even ever gets out of St. Mungo's."

That wasn't enough. They needed more out of him. She would have to ask him directly. So Hermione gasped and widened her eyes as though shocked. "So it really was you behind those murders! But why? Flint and the others, they never did anything to you. Their parents, I could understand but—"

"There's no better way to strike at a parent than through his child." Givens' eyes were full of rage as his whole frame shook. "They took my child away from me, and now I'm returning the favor, one family at a time. That's why I killed them. You know, I went to all the funerals under the guise of doing my job." An unholy expression of glee covered his face. "Their pain at burying a child…it was most delightful. But enough of that. It's time to get back to business. Now drop your wands."

Draco shook his head. "I don't think so. We're not stupid. Once we're wandless, that's when you'll strike," he growled. "And you'd like that, wouldn't you? Because that would give you the chance to kill me to get back at my parents."

"Honestly, you'll be better off just surrendering," Hermione put in. She didn't think that he would listen to sense, but she felt as though she should at least try to make him see the error of his ways. "You're never going to get away with this. But if you turn yourself in, maybe there'll be some leniency for you. It's clear that you need help and that—"

"Ha! I'm no fool. Even if the Ministry is lenient on me, the Death Eaters will be out to get me. Besides I've not been caught yet, and so why stop? Not when there are still so many families out there who still not experienced the pain of losing a child. Now throw down your wands! I'm not going to warn you again."

Both Hermione and Draco remained still, neither of them moving to give up their wands.

"Are you deaf? I said drop your wands! Or else I'll—"

"You can only curse one of us," Hermione told him, her mouth curling up in a smirk. "I think we've the advantage over you."

"That's what you think," Givens spat back, glaring at her with steely eyes. All of the Auror's attention was on her, and he didn't notice Draco reaching for his wand. Hermione tensed up, knowing that he was planning to attack. "But I can kill you and then get a disarming spell off before lover boy over there can even draw his wand."

"_Expelliarmus_!" cried Draco, trying to end the fight preemptively. But Givens twisted his body around at the last second, avoiding the spell and launching a stunner at Hermione in the process.

Hermione had been expecting that, and she easily avoided the spell by dodging right. She hadn't been expecting for Givens to follow that up with a slicing hex. At the last moment, she dropped to her knees. The spell went over her head and hit the oracle behind her, cleaving it in two. Amazingly enough, the illusion on it was so powerful that it remained in place despite the destruction wrought upon the oracle. Hermione rolled to one side. She came up with her wand in hand and sent a blinding hex Givens' way. Givens blocked the hex by covering his eyes with his left hand and walked forward. Hermione smiled, seeing an opportunity she just couldn't resist. "_Incendio_!" she called out.

Givens quickly danced out of harm's way, but not fast enough. Hermione's spell caught the trailing edge of his robes and set it ablaze. The spell also caused one of the desks in the room to catch on fire the way Hermione had intended all along. _The more we can damage the oracles, the better_, she thought. _Though I do wonder how long Kingsley will let this go on. Isn't he supposed to be watching?_

"Hermione! Watch out!" Her eyes snapped forward at Draco's warning to see a flash of green headed straight for her. Before she could even react, something collided with her from the side and pushed her to the ground.

It was Draco. "Be more careful," he said, his jaw clenched.

"Sorry," she replied. The two of them broke apart, Draco heading left while Hermione went right. They both knew it was best not to stay too close together. It was best for them to split up so Givens would have two distinct targets to worry about.

Givens clucked his tongue at Hermione mockingly. "Now that's too bad. I almost had you there," he said with a sneer. "And then I was going to frame young Malfoy for your death. Ah well. Still time for that yet." Then he was off again, firing another barrage of spells.

It was clear from his words and his actions that Hermione was his prime target. She flicked her wand through the air, casting counter spell after counter spell and dodging when she could not. In the meantime, Draco did his best to slow him down but Givens had cast a shield charm that the younger wizard couldn't break through.

Suddenly Givens spun around, facing Draco. "_Expelliarmus!_" he shouted, and Draco's wand flew threw the air and into his open hand. "Thank you, my boy. I'll use your wand to kill your fiancée," he gloated. He started to laugh.

And just as suddenly, his laughter turned into a gurgle. Givens dropped to his knees, clutching at his throat, making an odd bubbling sound all the while. Hermione looked across the room at her fiancé. He spread out his hands in front of him, and she could see a glint of metal.

"Looks like he forgot to shield against physical attacks," Draco noted as he tossed a throwing knife into the air and then caught it with one hand.

"Don't get caught off guard," said Hermione. "He's still—"

With deadly aim, Draco flung another knife at Givens. The knife lodged in the Auror's right wrist, causing the mad wizard to drop the wand he had been holding. "You were saying?" Draco lifted an eyebrow up at Hermione. "I would stun him except I don't have my wand. Could you take care of that please?"

Hermione grumbled under her breath about Draco's grandstanding but did as he requested. Givens hit the floor. "That wasn't a fatal blow, was it?" she asked.

"No, I didn't aim at anything too vital. He should live to see another day. Assuming Kingsley ever gets here with that back up," Draco added. He scuffed a toe against the floor. "And I thought he was supposed to be watching too!"

"I was." The Minister strode through the doors, a team of Aurors and Healers behind him. "But you two seemed to have the battle well in hand so I saw no reason to interfere. Any more duelers and who knows what sort of damage would've been done to the oracles with all the spells being slung about."

"True enough," said Hermione. She walked over to Draco, and the two of them surveyed the scene silently. Kingsley barked out several orders, and a Healer went scurrying over to Givens to check out the wizard's wounds. Keeping an eye on the wizard while the Healer did his work were a pair of Aurors. Hermione blinked. One of the Aurors was Zabini while the other was Harry.

"You picked out your team yourself, didn't you? When did you have time for that?" asked Hermione.

"Actually I didn't. I figured Zabini was safe to trust because Givens was out to get him. So I called him to my house last night and told him to put together a strike team of Aurors loyal to the law, not to their boss." Kingsley grinned broadly. "That's the beauty of delegation. You do none of the work and get all of the credit."

Hermione smiled back. She knew that Kingsley was only joking. "Oh really? So you don't consider dealing with the upcoming media storm as work?" she asked teasingly.

The Minister groaned. "Thanks, Hermione, for reminding me about that. I was trying to forget that for frankly that's the worst part of my job. I wonder if it's too late to resign and let my deputy take care of this mess."

"I see. So I take it you don't have a plan then?" she asked.

"No." Kingsley narrowed his eyes at her. "Does that mean you do?"

"She always does," put in Draco. "And most of the time, her plans aren't half bad. It's worth a listen."

"That they are," Kingsley agreed. "But then they'd have to be to keep Potter and Weasley out of trouble…most of the time."

"Trying to keep them out of trouble all of the time is an impossible task." Hermione rolled her eyes.

"And thankless as well, I imagine," said Draco.

"You have no idea." The less said about the subject the better, Hermione thought.

"But if you have a plan on how to explain this all to the media, I'll be more than willing to listen to it. Come on. You can tell me about it along the way."

"Along the way where, sir?" asked Hermione.

"I scheduled a press conference at my office before I left," he replied. "As I knew I'd want to get the news that the murderer's been caught out as soon as possible."

"But what are you going to do about Givens?" Draco asked. "You can't trust him to Azkaban."

"No, not with the way he was able to kill Flint there," said Hermione.

Kingsley sighed. "There is a magic-dampening cell where prisoners are kept before being seen by the Wizengamot. Potter and Zabini will take Givens there once the Healer's done with him. He'll be kept there with a constant watch by Aurors vouched for by the pair."

"And hopefully it won't be long until the trial. That way we can really put this all behind us," Hermione said. Both men nodded at her words. None of them doubted what the ultimate verdict would be, between Givens' confession and his attack on the young couple. The only question was whether he would be sentenced to life in prison or to something worse.

****

**Author's note:** My thanks to everyone for reading so far! I hope this chapter was worth the wait. As always, reviews would be very much appreciated. The next chapter, _Before the Altar_, will be up next week.

My thanks goes out to everyone who reviewed the last chapter: Kae-Lae, Enilas, crimsoneyes44, smaginn, ebbe04, mkhtl, Ceralyn, waffenmac, LeaFairy124, kazfeist, MamaJMarie, Wicked Wench, Lilmisxx, alina290, Ryoko05, gitgit, and Pennilyn Novus.


	36. Before the Altar

**Ambition's End: Before the Altar**

**Disclaimer:** Only the plot is mine. The characters, setting, and everything else belong to JKR.

****

Hermione dragged herself into work the next day. She was absolutely exhausted. The press conference had lasted hours. The reporters there had asked question after question. In their zeal for more information, they had even started repeating questions in the hopes of gleaning additional tidbits. She was grateful she was able to snag a lift for herself this morning. With how tired she was, she wasn't in the mood to answer any more questions to start off the day.

But all in all, it had gone off exceptionally well. Hermione had managed to control everything in order to paint herself and Draco as the real heroes of the evening. The story they had used had been more true than not—that Draco was the first one to be suspicious after he was arrested by Givens for saving his fiancée's life and that Hermione had used her contacts in the Wizarding World to investigate where Draco could not.

Kingsley had also been given his due; Hermione emphasized several times the important role Kingsley had played in the trap they had laid for Givens. There were several reasons for her doing so, but the most important one was that she wanted to buttress his position as Minister as soon as possible. Inevitably grumbling would start, fingers would be pointed, and blame would be laid upon Kingsley for picking Givens to lead the Aurors in the first place. Hermione needed stability in the Ministry for her to make any head way in improving the Wizarding World, and the last thing she wanted was for her known ally to have to resign over the whole mess.

However the press had gravitated towards the young couple, captivated by the romance between the two of them. From the few headlines she had seen that morning, they were being hailed as the true heroes of the whole affair. Which again was more true than not.

Hermione yawned, covering her mouth with her hand. She really didn't feel like working today. However she wanted to put a few hours in before taking all of next week off for the wedding, and she knew she also had to do some damage control with her co-workers. The oracles had been heavily damaged as a result of all the curses and hexes Givens had thrown her way. She grumbled to herself as she remembered how Draco had simply rolled over in bed when she had tried to wake him up that morning, saying something about how he was starting his weekend early. _It must be nice_, she thought,_ to be the boss and not have to worry about what your co-workers think! I guess I should be grateful though that the illusion over them held. That way no one else knows what the oracles truly are._

A bell rang as the lift reached her floor. The doors opened, and Hermione stuck her head out to see if she had a clear path. No one else was present so she quickly made a beeline to her office. She could only marvel at her luck. First there had been no one at the side entrance she had used, and then she had managed to score an empty lift. Of course, when she thought about it, her luck had really started yesterday when their plan had gone off without a hitch. She hoped that meant good things for the wedding—that the wedding would also be problem-free.

Once she was safely ensconced behind her desk, she was able to relax. She stretched her arms out in front of her, flexing her hands, and then got to work. Hermione had several administrative tasks that she wanted to finish before taking her time off. She bent her head over her table and got down to the business of getting her affairs in order.

Methodically she went through her tasks, one by one. She only paused when a knock on her door signaled yet another visitor. Most of her co-workers were friendly enough, asking if she was well enough to work today and the like. While Hermione was quite sure that none of them were happy about what happened to the oracles, they didn't ascribe any blame to her for she was merely trying to defend herself in the face of a blistering attack from the former head Auror.

However, there were some who were not so kind. After one particularly vehement row with an Unspeakable who thought Hermione should have died before letting any harm come to the oracles, Hermione had had enough. She promptly hexed the fool out and cast the strongest locking charm she knew on her door. She had wanted to play nice and all, but she wasn't going to be able to get her work done with too many screaming arguments like that.

Which was why she was currently ignoring the maniac pounding on her door.

Hermione put her quill down and then sighed. She was starting to get a headache. "I guess some people just can't take a hint," she said ruefully. She picked up her wand. "Oh well. I guess I should have cast a silencing charm in the first place."

However a voice rang out before she could cast the spell. "Hermione Granger! I swear if you don't open the door this instance, I shan't be responsible for the actions I take next!"

Hermione blinked in surprise. That was Katie, she realized. She leapt up from her seat and crossed over to open the door. Behind it stood her friend, looking thoroughly put out. "Well it's about time," said Katie. "Do you know how long I've been looking for you?"

Hermione shook her head. Standing to one side, she waved for her friend to enter her office. Closing the door once more, Hermione turned to face Katie, who was still fuming. She immediately apologized. "I'm sorry," she said. "I completely forgot to tell you that I moved."

"Yes, well that would've been good to know," Katie said with a roll of her eyes. "I went over to your flat this morning to see you before you left for work so we could go over the schedule for next week and what not. Since you so conveniently locked your floo, I had no choice but Apparate to your front door. And what do I find? An absolute circus! I swear the whole place was crawling with reporters and photographers."

Hermione winced. _So that's why I didn't run into any reporters this morning. I got here early, and they were probably all still staking out my flat and Draco's old place too, hoping to catch me there. Hmm...that's one unintended benefit to moving to our new house sooner than planned. I'll have to thank Draco for that later. Don't know how I'm going to get home though. They've all probably moved on the Ministry by now though._

But Katie's rant was not yet finished. "So after I extricated myself from that mess, I came over here, figuring that I would just have to corner you in your office. Unfortunately I wasn't the only person who had that idea. When I got here, I found the Department of Mysteries to be on lock down with no visitors allowed. If it weren't for Padma passing by, I don't think I would have ever got past security." Katie huffed and crossed her arms over her chest.

"I am sorry," Hermione repeated. "I mean, it completely slipped my mind to tell you about my moving and all. It was a spur of the moment decision, you see, and…well I had other things on my mind."

Katie raised one eyebrow knowingly. "Other things, you say? I am certain you did."

Hermione flushed. She knew what Katie was implying, but she wasn't going to bother correcting that assumption. She decided to switch topics. "So you needed to see me for something?" she asked.

Katie all but groaned. "Where to start?" she muttered, flopping down into an open chair.

That wasn't a good reaction. Hermione returned to her seat, thinking that it might be best for her to hear Katie's news sitting down. Her stomach churned with worry as she wondered what could be wrong. It was probably something with the wedding, she decided. No wedding ever went smoothly.

"Well there are several things, as you might have surmised. I'll start with the one thing I absolutely cannot forget. I hope you haven't made any plans tonight, because you already have some."

"I do?" Hermione tilted her head, perplexed. She rarely if ever forgot her schedule, but as far as she knew the only she had planned for tonight was a long soak in the tub.

Meanwhile Katie giving her a look full of disbelief. "You know your wedding is next week, right?" she prompted her friend.

"Of course." Hermione rolled her eyes. "I hope I wouldn't forget something as important as that."

"Which means that this is your last weekend as a single witch—" Katie rolled her hands forward and spread them out in front of her.

Suddenly Hermione got it. She snapped her fingers. "Oh! That's right. You told me you were planning some sort of hen night."

"Yes, yes. Though our plans have changed. Originally I was going to take everyone out to this club I know, but I don't think that's such a good idea any more."

"Sorry," Hermione said.

"Don't be. At least not for that." For a moment, Katie's mood became somber before brightening once more. "But in any event, there's been a last minute change in plans. Come over to—" She stopped and looked critically at Hermione. "Never mind. If I told you to come over after work, you would probably head back home first to change. Which is a risky proposition because you might get distracted by…other things."

"Katie!" Hermione blushed bright red. "I would not!" she declared, thumping her fist against her desk.

"Maybe, maybe not. I'd rather not take the chance. So I can just come and get you."

"I plan on getting off early today," Hermione said. "I think I've earned a short vacation and all."

"Indeed you have, but you're still working," Katie pointed out. She sighed. "But fine. I do have other things to do aside from stalking you all day, I guess. Just let me know where you live now so I can come over to drag you to your own party in case you're running late."

"In Unity Square," Hermione answered.

Katie raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? I didn't know that it was open now."

"It's not. Ours is the first house finished, and so we're the first to move in." She frowned. She didn't think Katie could find the place. There were many wards on the house that kept away unwanted visitors, and they were all attuned to Draco. She would have to ask him to modify the wards to allow Katie access, something she should have done earlier. Hermione made a mental note to speak to Draco about that the next time she saw him.

"So no neighbors? That must be nice," Katie said with a wink, causing her friend to turn red once more. "All right. So be at Grimmauld Place at six tonight. Ginny's told Harry that she's kicking him for the night—"

"Now that's cruel. Where is he going to go when he's off duty?" Hermione asked. She was willing to bet that her best friend was currently dealing with the fallout from the day before, but eventually he would be allowed to go home and get some rest. She wondered where he was going to sleep tonight. Most likely at the Burrow, she supposed_._

Katie continued on as though she hadn't heard her. "—And so that's where we'll all be. Ginny and I thought there was no better place to keep prying eyes away. That's all I'm going to say about that. Well aside from noting that I'd really like to not have to come and find you again."

"Understood," said Hermione.

"Great!" Katie chirped. "Moving on to the wedding itself. I've been absolutely deluged with owls begging me for invitations since last night."

"That's a moot point, isn't it? Seeing how we're already at capacity and all," Hermione said.

"Well we could ask Solaris is they could expand the room, increase the catering order, and the like. It's short notice and all, but I think all the vendors would do it for you. For an additional fee, of course. It'll be expensive, but if there were people you wanted to add…."

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think that's a good idea. It's just too last minute. Besides I don't want to deal with the fit Narcissa is certain to have if I unilaterally add to the guest list without requesting her input."

Katie's eyes widened. "I hadn't thought of that," she admitted softly. "It's just as well, I guess. Less work for all of us if we just tell everyone no. All right then. Last thing. I've had several owls from the _Prophet_, each more desperate than the last, begging for a spot at the wedding. Which quite confuses me because I thought we had already set aside press credentials for them."

"Oh. That." Hermione bit her lip. "That was something else I should have told you about."

"Oh dear," said Katie. "That does not sound good."

"I had their credentials pulled," said Hermione. "It was after a run-in with Rita Skeeter, you see. She mentioned something about the _Prophet_ not covering the wedding since we didn't submit the announcement in time so I thanked her for telling me that so I could redistribute their spots."

"Is that so?" Katie leveled a stern glare at her friend. "Hermione. I hate to tell you this, but you have to have the _Prophet_ there. Think of all the problems that will arise if you don't. They'll make absolute pests of themselves trying to get in, and security has enough on its hands already."

"You're right. They would try to bug the place." She grimaced. If that happened, then Skeeter would be certain to skewer in the paper the next day. "All right. Restore them. But if you can somehow keep—"

"Skeeter out? Seeing how she's the cause of this misunderstanding, I doubt they'll want her there. But that's everything for now." Katie stood, and Hermione did the same.

"So I'm to be at Grimmauld Place at six tonight, right?"

Katie nodded. "That's right. I'll come hunt you down again if you don't. I'll see you there," she said with a wave.

"Wait!" cried Hermione. "How long is this party supposed to last anyway? Is it going to take up the entire evening?"

Katie chuckled to herself. "Oh Hermione. That's just so…so like you." She grinned broadly. "And no, not the entire evening. The weekend's more like it." And with that she dashed off.

Hermione sat down back in her seat. "The entire weekend?" she repeated. "That can't be right. Katie must have been joking. Yes, she must have been." However she wasn't entirely convinced of that fact. She hoped she was right. She just couldn't see how they could spend the entire weekend at a party. Pushing those thoughts asides, she went back to work, determined to get back home as soon as possible.

****

Hermione set her wand down, finished with putting on her make up. She looked at herself in the mirror with a critical eye. Since Katie hadn't volunteered many details about what they would be doing this evening, she had thought it best to go with a simple set of black dress robes. She smoothed her hands over the soft fabric and twirled around, happy with the way the robes accentuated her figure. With her make up and clothing perfect, the only left for her to do was her hair. She would just keep it simple, she decided. Putting it up in a French twist was the easy and elegant solution.

"Do you have to leave now?" Draco asked plaintively from behind her. Hermione spared him a glance and then hid a smile before going back to dealing with her hair. He looked just like a puppy whose favorite toy had been taken away. He was adorable when pouting—that was probably the reason why he was so spoiled.

"Yes, I do," she told him. "It'd be very rude for me to be late to my own party."

He grumbled and made a rude gesture, not at all pleased with the situation. "But can't you just tell them that you overslept? They would understand that, wouldn't they, considering the night you had? And it wouldn't even be a lie! We could spend the entire time in bed," he suggested.

Hermione let out a sigh. "It's tempting," she said. "But Katie's promised to hunt me down if I don't show up and so—"

He was unimpressed by her reasoning. "She couldn't find you. The wards wouldn't allow that," he said flatly.

"Thanks for reminding me about that, darling."

He was all hopeful eagerness. "Does that mean you're staying?" He waited for her answer with bated breath.

"No. Just that I would like the wards to be modified to allow my friends access. Katie definitely needs to be able to come here, seeing how she's helping me with the wedding and all, and it would be nice for Harry and Ron to be able to drop by. So I'd be much obliged if you could change that." She pursed her lips together. "Though I'd much rather be able to change the wards myself," she added.

"You will be able to do that after the ceremony and all," he informed her. "As soon as you're officially my wife, all the magic embedded in our home will answer to you as well."

"That's good to know. But that doesn't help me now. Could you at least let Katie—"

"Fine, fine," he said grumpily, crossing his arms.

She smiled brilliantly up at him, then stepped towards him. Standing up on her toes, she kissed him. Eagerly he responded, his hands coming up to cradle her head as their mouths fused together for a deep, passionate kiss. After they parted, he smirked at her. "So you're staying, right? Because you know there's more where that came from."

"Again, that's tempting. But I'm afraid you would wind up being disappointed in the end. I'm so tired I'd fall fast asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow."

"Not if I'm there," he swore fervently. "And might I add that it's not my fault you decided to go to work today. You should've stayed home, like I did. It would've been the sensible thing to do. I shouldn't be punished for your lack of sense."

"Except that staying home today would have meant that I'd have to go back to work on Monday to clear my desk," said Hermione. "And stop complaining so much. I'll have you know that I've taken the next month off so we'll have plenty of time to spend together after this."

That seemed to do the trick. His eyes lit up with glee as he digested that bit of information. "The entire month? And here I thought you only took the next week off," said Draco.

"That was originally the plan, since at the time I was still worried about Givens. But since he's no longer a problem, I thought I might as well take a longer holiday. I've not had a break since I started working at the Ministry," she explained.

"Excellent," he said. "I suppose I shall spend my evening alone then plotting what to do once I finally have you to myself. So you'll be back tomorrow morning?"

"What time is it?" Hermione asked. She didn't wait for an answer, instead turning around to face the clock. "Oh dear. I better hurry before Katie decides to make good on her promise and hunt me down and drag me by my hair to Grimmauld Place." She dashed to the bed to grab her purse and then back to the dresser to pick up her wand.

But Draco was fast on her heels. "Hermione!" he cried. "Don't think I don't know that you're trying to avoid the question. Just when do you think you'll be back anyway?"

Hermione paused. She had to give him some sort of answer before she left. The last thing she wanted was for the party to be interrupted by an irate Draco. "Tomorrow….maybe," she hedged.

Both of his eyebrows shot up. "Maybe? So you mean you don't know?"

"Well Katie did say something about making a weekend of it. I don't know if she was joking or not, so tomorrow if you're luck and Monday if you're not. But whenever that will be, I'll see you then. Bye now!" Before he could protest any further, she Apparated away.

She arrived in front of the door at Grimmauld Place. She knocked on the door and then settled back on her heels to wait for someone to answer it. She didn't have to wait long.

"Hermione!" cried Ginny happily upon seeing her friend. "You're here! Come in, come in!" She waved her hand for Hermione to come inside.

"Where else would I be?" Hermione asked as she stepped through the doorway. "Please tell me that I'm not too late, that Katie's not gone off searching for me."

"You're just in the nick of time." Katie appeared at the end of the hallway. "I was about to head out."

Hermione heaved a sigh of relief. "Good," she said. "One thing though. When you said that this party would last all weekend…you were just joking, right?"

Katie and Ginny exchanged a glance.

"Oh no. Don't tell me you were serious? You can't be. I can't imagine spending the entire weekend partying, especially not when I'm already so tired to begin with. And besides I've not even brought a change of clothes."

"Should I put her out of her misery or should you?" asked Ginny.

"Go ahead and be my guest. It was mostly your idea and all," Katie replied.

"The party's only tonight," said Ginny. "I wouldn't have kicked Harry out of his house for the entire weekend."

"Thank goodness." Hermione let go of the breath she had been holding in.

"But after tonight, the two of us have a special trip planned for you. That way you can relax before the madness of your wedding week sets in," Ginny continued. "And don't worry about your not packing anything," she added with a saucy wink. "I've got that covered. That's one of the advantages of having a robes-maker as your best friend."

"Particularly one who already has your measurements," said Katie. "Now come on then. We've kept everyone else waiting long enough. Let's go. It's time to get this party started."

****

Draco scowled across the table at the empty chair that belonged to Hermione. She had yet to return from her party, and he was beginning to regret ever letting her go. _I can't believe she was serious about not being back until Monday. What am I supposed to do with myself until then?_ he grumbled mentally. _Last night was bad enough. I had spent the entire day anticipating just how we'd celebrate when she got home, but no she had to make other plans that don't include me._

Draco knew very well that he was being unreasonable, but he couldn't help it. He was rather jealous that she was getting a party while he was not. The worst part was that he had no one to blame but himself. Theo had wanted to plan something for him, but Draco had nixed the idea. He hadn't thought it wise for a bunch of pure-blood wizards to wander around in search of a good time when a murderer like Givens was still on the loose. He supposed he could owl his friend and insist on being taken out some place tonight, but he didn't feel like doing that. Especially as Theo was certain to tease him non-stop about missing Hermione.

Which was unfortunately true. His friend had always had excellent aim. Draco did miss her. He had tried to distract himself all day by making plans on how to spend their extended honeymoon but to no avail. He simply did not know how he would manage to amuse himself until she came back. He wasn't about to visit his parents; they were certain to be unsympathetic to his moping about. The same could be said about his friends. Slytherins weren't known for their compassion. Draco hated to admit it, even to himself, but he didn't know what to do without her.

And then there was the issue about what she was doing at the moment—or rather the fact that he didn't know what she was doing. Normally that didn't bother him. They had their own lives, after all, and he knew he could trust her. But still his mind boggled over the idea of a three day hen party, and he didn't like the suggestions his overactive imagination came up with regarding how they would pass the time.

It was going to be a long weekend.

****

Hermione waltzed through the doors late Sunday evening, happy to be home. The spa weekend that Katie and Ginny had treated her to had been lovely, but she had missed Draco. _I hope he wasn't too bored,_ she thought. _He must not have missed me too much though, seeing how he's not here to greet me._ She pouted for a minute over that fact. But then she shrugged her shoulders and shoved her annoyance aside. She had left him behind, after all, so she could understand if he was peeved at her. She grinned as she thought of all the ways she could coax him out of a bad mood.

But before she could do that, she would have to find him. Hermione started to wander about, not having memorized the layout of the house still, poking her head in each room she passed to see if he was there. He wasn't in the kitchen or his study or the library. Finally she found him in their bedroom, curled up on the bed and fast asleep.

She eagerly bounded towards him but then paused. Hermione knew she was acting like a silly little girl, the way she couldn't help but admire how handsome he was. She sighed happily. She was one lucky witch.

Gently she sat down on the bed beside him, so she wouldn't disturb his sleep. She watched over him for several long minutes. Draco looked so peaceful asleep. She reached out a hand and briefly brushed his eyelashes before cupping his cheek.

That woke him. "Hermione?" he muttered, still half-asleep. "Is that you?"

"Yes," she said. "I missed you." She bent over to kiss him.

His eyes shot open. Grumpily he turned away, leaving his back to face her. "Have fun?" he huffed crossly.

"Would've been more fun if I had you." She laid down on the bed beside him, but he continued to ignore him. Hermione sighed. She turned over on her side so she could watch him once more.

"I'm sorry," she said. "For leaving you behind. I should've told Katie to include you as well, that we'd have our parties together. But I had forgotten that she was planning one in the first place and so—" She trailed off, not knowing what else to say. He made no reply. She sighed again and wondered how long he was going to stay upset with her.

Suddenly he flipped back around and faced her. Reaching out an arm, he pulled her to him. She snuggled against him, burying her head in his chest, happy to be close to him once more. He rested his chin on the top of her head and said, "No, darling. What you should've done was owl your regrets and spent the night with me."

Hermione didn't want to argue the point. "But I'm here now. Surely that counts for something," she said.

"You really know how to make a bloke feel wanted." Though she couldn't see his face, she knew he was pouting.

She smiled. She pressed her hands against his chest, her inner girl squealing at how firm he felt. Hermione licked her lips once and then kissed his chest. Slowly and lovingly she worked her way up, leaving marks as she went. He groaned in response and shifted so that she was on top of him, allowing her better access. "But I do want you," she said in between kisses. She tilted her head up and brushed her lips against his. She teasingly traced her hand up and down his thigh. "Let me show you how much," she said.

"You do that," he said huskily and that was all the invitation she needed to dive down and show him just how deeply she was in love and lust with him.

****

The young couple took breakfast in bed the next morning, both of them exhausted from their activities of the night before. Draco was sending the trays away when an owl flew in and deposited a letter on his lap. He quirked an eyebrow before opening it. A pensive expression appeared on his face as he read it.

"What is it?" Hermione asked. She didn't think the look on his face bode well for them.

"It's from Mother," he replied. "She wants to see us for lunch today. She says that she has something very important to tell us."

"That sounds rather…ominous." Hermione shivered as she spoke. She doubted Narcissa Malfoy wanted to see them in order to impart good news.

"I think it sounds absolutely horrible myself. I just got you back, and now we have to go traipsing off to see my parents." Draco crossed his arms in a huff.

Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes at his antics. "Oh honestly! Insatiable doesn't begin to describe you."

"I'm a young, healthy wizard with needs, Hermione," he said reasonably. "And after months of not having those needs met"—Hermione snorted but he ignored her—"I think I'm entitled to make up for that lost time."

"But you keep wasting time," she noted with aspersion. "We could go another round, but you're too busy complaining. Oh well. Might as well get ready." She threw back the covers and started to get up, only to be drawn back to bed.

"Now, now. Don't be so hasty," Draco said. He looked down on her with laughing, grey eyes and smiled. "And you say I'm insatiable, but you're the one gagging for it."

Hermione rolled her eyes again. He was all talk, no action. They would never get started if she didn't do anything about it. With a smirk on her lips, she skillfully straddled her fiancé and took matters into her own hands.

****

Hermione's face was beginning to ache from pasting a smile on it for so long. Narcissa was being vindictive, she decided. It had been clear that Draco's mother was none too pleased when they showed up an hour late to lunch, and now she was taking her annoyance out on them. Instead of getting straight to the point and informing them just why she had seen it necessary to summon them to Malfoy Manor, she was going on and on about how her latest redecorating project was going.

It galled Hermione to admit it but Narcissa's ploy was working like a charm. She was growing increasingly aggravated by the second.

"And I told them that ghastly shade of puce simply wouldn't do. It was horrible, darlings. It clashed with everything. I simply do not know what came over Miang. Usually her taste is impeccable." Narcissa shuddered delicately. "So I've fallen further behind schedule. The way things are going I will be fortunate to have the east wing finished by this time next year."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Mother," said Draco consolingly. "I know you had hoped to wrap everything up before you started planning for the holidays."

That set Narcissa off on another rant. Hermione glared at Draco, her eyes flashing furiously at him for being so stupid as to bring that up. Draco mouthed a silent, "I'm sorry," to her but that did little to calm her nerves. Hermione took a sip of tea and then set her tea cup down with a loud clink, attracting Narcissa's attention to her.

"Hermione! Do be careful! That's a family heirloom, you know, and it's irreplaceable if chipped," Narcissa scolded her.

"My apologies," said Hermione with a smirk. "I didn't realize your family's heirlooms were so…." Hermione waved a hand, letting the older witch fill in the blank. The insult was clear. Narcissa inhaled sharply, looking absolutely livid with the other witch. Hermione's smirk only grew larger as she quite deliberately goaded the old hag on.

Draco coughed then in an attempt to defuse the situation. "Mother," he said, "I believe your owl mentioned that you had some news for us. Do you mind sharing with us what that is?"

Narcissa looked downright smug at her son's question, and Hermione knew she wasn't going to like what came out of the blonde witch's mouth next. "Thank you for reminding me, Draco," she said. She folded her hands together and smirked. "I had almost forgotten. I've been inundated with owls this past weekend from friends begging for an invitation to the wedding. I'm simply couldn't tell all of them no, and so I wound up giving in to the pleas from some of very dear friends of mine." The expression on Narcissa's face was nothing short of malicious. "Besides," she continued, "an extra fifty or so guests shouldn't create any problems, right?"

****

"I hate that evil bitch!" No longer having anything at hand to throw, Hermione settled for stamping her foot for emphasis. "She's lucky she's not dead. I could have killed her on the spot!"

"It's awful but a part of me thinks you should've," said Katie. "And when I say a part of me, I mean all of me really."

Immediately after she and Draco had taken their leave of the evil harridan he had for a mother, Hermione had stormed over to her friend's flat. Katie could tell right away that something had incited Hermione's temper and had taken her to the kitchen so she could vent. For a half hour of Hermione ranted about how much she hated her future mother-in-law while breaking a couple of old dishes on the floor before she had finally calmed down enough to tell Katie just what was wrong. That had led to Katie breaking a few dishes on her own. After the two witches' temper had finally settled down to a slow simmer, they cleaned up the kitchen with a few waves of their wands—with Hermione promising to replace the broken dishes—and had moved locations to Katie's living room.

Katie sighed from her place on the sofa. "I knew things were going too well," she mumbled. "Everything was coming together, and it looked like your wedding was to go off without a hitch…." She exhaled sharply. "But now this happened. And to think I had never expected Narcissa to make this move. She's ruining the wedding of her only son after all."

"Yes, well, did I mention that she's evil?"

"Repeatedly."

"Good. It bears repeating." Hermione threw herself on the armchair across from her friend. "I'm caught between anger that she could do something like this and sheer panic about how we're going to deal with this obstacle."

"The easiest way," said Katie slowly, "is to refuse them entry. They don't have genuine invitations. They're not on any sort of official list. Absent any instructions to the contrary, the Ricdeau Group won't allow them in."

Hermione grimaced. That thought had already occurred to her. Unfortunately she didn't think it was prudent to insult so many people like that. She had seen the list of new invitees, and all of them were people of some import in the Wizarding World. Narcissa had been very canny as to who she had extended the extra invitations to. Hermione might need help from some of those families in her future endeavors, and so she didn't want any of them holding a grudge against her. But she wasn't about to explain that to her old friend. There was no need to for there were other reasons to honor the new invitations.

"I thought about that," she admitted, "but there's a couple problems. One is that I don't want a riot on our hands. If security turns enough of them away at the same time, there just may be one."

"I don't really think that will happen, Hermione," Katie stated.

"Oh I admit it's not likely but it's still within the realm of possibility. More importantly, however, is that refusing them entry would be letting Narcissa win. I'd be admitting that I'm not as capable as her as planning a large event, even with a friend helping me." Hermione clenched her fists tightly.

"Again I don't think that's the case," Katie said. "Narcissa has thrown enough parties to know that accommodating such a large increase in guests at the last minute is all but impossible."

"Try getting her to admit that," Hermione shot back. "You know as well as I do she'll gloat."

Katie pulled a face. "True that. She'll be insufferable, won't she?"

Hermione nodded her head. "And I'll never hear the end of it," she added.

Katie took a deep breath. "Then I'll guess we'll just have to do things the hard way."

"Yes," said Hermione, "it's time to start making a list."

"That's just like you. Of course you want a list of everything we need to do," said Katie.

"Well that's one list."

"Oh dear. I don't think I like the sound of that."

"If Narcissa's adding fifty guests, then so am I," Hermione said grimly. "I'm not about to let her side of the room outnumber mine."

Katie looked at her critically for one long moment. "I should've seen that coming, I guess. You've always been on the competitive side. Oh well. Making room for one hundred new guests is probably just as difficult as making room for fifty—although I do expect a difference in price."

"Indeed," Hermione agreed, "but thankfully that's not something I have to worry about."

****

Peeved did not begin to describe how Draco felt about his mother at the moment. If anyone aside from his mother had pulled the stunt she did, he would have been livid with them. He had hardly seen Hermione over the last two days for she was too busy running around trying to accommodate his mother's surprise. He had manage to get a minute of her time to ask if she would prefer just to tell his mother no. Draco made it very clear that he thought she had crossed the line, and he wouldn't mind in the slightest if Hermione refused to add his mother's friends to the guest list.

Unfortunately Hermione had thought things out more than he and had promptly pointed out that they didn't really want to offend anyone whose assistance they might need at a later point. So it was that he was left to find another way to impress his mother with just how cross he was with her.

Draco allowed himself a small smirk. He knew just the thing. His mother hated losing at anything, and part of the reason why she remained so hostile towards Hermione was because she was afraid that she would lose her place as the most important woman in his life. There could be no better punishment for her than to let her know that she already had.

Making that point to his mother while in front of his father—well that would be just twisting the knife in. It was cruel, Draco knew, but he was that upset with his mother's shenanigans. It was for that purpose that he dropped by to take dinner with his parents at the manor Wednesday night.

"It's such a shame that Miss Granger was unable to join us," his father mentioned pleasantly shortly after they sat down at the dinner table.

"Yes," Draco agreed. His voice remained calm and even, betraying no hint of the anger he felt. "It is. Alas poor Hermione has her hands full dealing with the consequence of Mother's latest stunt."

"Excuse me?" his mother squawked.

Draco turned to glare at his mother, lifting up one eyebrow in disdain. "There's no need to pretend that you're innocent, Mother," he told her shortly. "Hermione and I realized what you were trying to do right away. And frankly I was very disappointed you decided to do your best to ruin our wedding."

"Ruin your wedding? Me?" His mother lifted her hands up gracefully. "Don't be absurd, Draco. Your fiancée did that all herself with the way she insisted it remain such a small gathering. What's more my friends have all been wondering whether or not we've lost our fortune due to Ministry fines. I simply tried to salvage the event one last time."

"More like savage," Draco retorted. "Adding so many new guests at the last minute is simply not done, Mother, and you've planned enough parties in your long lifetime to know that." She winced at the jab at her age, and he couldn't help but smirk. Now it was time to drive his point home.

"Perhaps I should have made this perfectly clear before. I hadn't thought it necessary, but it does appear that you're slow on the update in regards to this, Mother." Draco leaned forward in his seat. "Any attack on Hermione—in any form, by any person—any attack on her is just the same as an attack on me. If you wish to aggravate my wife, to mock her at every step, to make her life miserable whenever you're around, then you do the same to me. You did the same to me when you cast our wedding plans into chaos with this ill-conceived scheme of yours. And I am. Not. Pleased."

He waited a moment for his words to sink in. "Let me put this in a way I think you'll understand. If I ever have to make a choice between you and my wife, it will always be Hermione. Always. Even if she's in the wrong, I'll take her side over yours. So enough with your petty games and your power plays. If that's the way you want to be, then I'll have no recourse but to cut you out of my life. And don't doubt that I will."

She gasped in shock, utterly taken aback by his threat. Draco smiled grimly at his mother. "Needless to say, I'll be expecting you to send a formal apology to Hermione for your thoughtlessness. However, as you are my mother, I shan't expect the same for myself."

His mother adopted a pained expression, but Draco was unmoved. He knew that his mother was a master manipulator. Narcissa then looked to Lucius for support. Her husband met her eyes briefly before looking away, indicating that she was on her own in this. Finally she swallowed her pride and nodded her head, giving in to her son's demand.

****

Wearily Hermione trudged towards the bedroom after arriving home late once again. She was utterly exhausted, but at least the expanded wedding was finally coming together. The first thing she and Katie had done Tuesday morning was to meet with the events coordinator at Solaris. As Katie had surmised, the resort had experience with last minute changes and was easily able to accommodate the additional guests. Hermione was thankful that they had gone through Solaris to arrange for the catering for they were able to take care of that problem as well during their meeting. Afterwards they had trekked over to meet with the head of the Ricdeau Group, who was providing security for the wedding, to let him know about the changes. The good doctor had simply pushed his glasses back with one hand and then named his price. Hermione had readily agreed. Although the fee was almost doubling, it wouldn't put a dent in the Malfoy vaults.

As for finding another fifty people for Hermione to invite—that had been ridiculously easy. Hermione and Katie had poured over the owls Katie had received asking for a seat, and they had the new invitations sent out in the space of an hour.

That only left the decorations. Which turned out to be a much bigger problem than everything else because they had to find an additional source of flowers. Further complicating matters was the fact that they needed to find a vendor with the same type and color of flowers that the first was providing so that everything would go together the way they should. Hermione and Katie had spent all of Wednesday, making call after call to florists. However none of them had right mix of what was needed.

In the end, it was Ginny who had come up with a solution. Hermione and Katie had dropped by her shop Thursday afternoon for one last fitting before the wedding. They had related the problems they were facing to the sympathetic redhead, with Hermione throwing in several cutting remarks about the wicked witch of Wiltshire. Ginny had tilted her head and asked to see a sketch of what the decorations should look like. She had taken one look and suggested that instead of finding so much more of the same variety and color of flowers, they could throw in a couple additional colors into the mix. Ginny had proceeded to pull some swatches of fabric to demonstrate to the older witches how everything matched. Hermione was so happy that she could have kissed the younger witch.

After the fitting was done, Hermione and her friends had set out to talk with the original florist. It took some time and much culling through sample flowers. Ginny also had to come up with an alternate alternative color scheme. But late that same evening, the three witches left the florist with a sense of accomplishment. Together they had managed to deal with the awful surprise that Narcissa had dumped into Hermione's lap, and technically with a day to spare—although they really didn't have a day to spare for the rehearsal was scheduled for Friday. She sighed. Tomorrow would mark the first time her family would meet Draco's. At least the Malfoys would be on their best behavior, if the note she received from Narcissa this morning was to be believed.

Hermione pushed open the door. As she had expected, Draco was already fast asleep. She hadn't seen much of him in the past three days for she had simply been too busy. She smiled as she remembered how sweet he was in suggesting that they tell his mother it was too late to add anyone to the guest list. Though she hadn't said as much, for she had far too much on her mind at the time, she had really appreciated how he had taken her side rather than favoring his mother over her.

She yawned. She was dead tired. She looked longingly at the en suite. While it would do her good to take a nice refreshing bath, she would run the risk of falling asleep in the tub. So instead she settled for changing her clothes and then settling into bed beside her soon-to-be husband.

****

The morning of the wedding, Hermione woke up before Draco. She rubbed sleep out of her eyes and then got out of bed and stretched. With a yawn, she eyed her fiancé and considered waking him up. She shook her head, deciding against it. Draco didn't have half as many things to do today as she did, and so he could afford to sleep in. Besides that would keep him out of trouble for at least a little while.

Hermione slipped on a pair of slippers and then made her way over to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. She stopped for a moment to peek out a window and check on the weather. She let out a small groan. There was a light drizzle, and the clouds above foreshadowed that there was more to come. Hermione had always planned to hold everything indoors because she knew she couldn't count on the weather. However the increased humidity would mean that her hair would take up more time. It was just as well that she had got up so early, she reflected to herself as she made her cup of coffee.

Hermione was munching on a piece of toast when Katie arrived. "I thought you'd be up," said her friend.

"Of course," said Hermione. "How could I sleep in knowing everything we have to do today? But we have a little bit of time to spare. Go on and have something to eat." She waved a hand at the table, and another place setting appeared.

"Thanks. I think I will." Katie grinned. "I need to keep up my energy and all."

"Exactly. That's why I'm eating breakfast in the first place, despite all the butterflies in my stomach."

"You nervous?" Katie raised a skeptical eyebrow at her friend. "You certainly don't look it."

"That's because I'm a brilliant actress." There was a pause, and then the two friends burst out into laughter. They continued teasing one another as they ate. But all too soon, breakfast was over, and they were dashing off to Solaris to start the final preparations for the wedding.

****

Draco admired himself in the mirror. He did look good, even if he had to say so himself seeing as there were no honest types at all in the room with him for they were all too jealous.

"I knew having a mirror in here was a bad idea. Hermione's going to through a fit when she finds that Malfoy here is because he couldn't tear himself away from his reflection," Potter muttered grumpily.

Draco rolled his eyes and turned to face his companions. Choosing his best man was easy. Theo was his oldest friend and all. However Hermione had insisted on them each having four attendants, one for each quarter, and so Draco had to find three other wizards to be at his side. Zabini had been his next choice, if for no other reason than to have a skilled duelist covering his back during the ceremony. However Hermione had decided to interfere after that and somehow managed to get him to add Potter as one of his groomsmen. Not wanting the Weasel to follow, Draco had quickly rounded out his side of the wedding party with a distant cousin on his father's side, Rufus Branford.

"Trust you, Potter, not to understand how important it is for a groom to look good on his wedding day," Draco sniped back.

"Oh. My bad. I thought that was the bride's job," Potter returned.

Draco rolled his eyes. "You really are a lost cause, aren't you? Yes everyone's eyes should be on Hermione. But if the groom is an idiot and is wearing his robes backwards or worse…well I hope even you can get the picture."

Potter opened his mouth for another retort, but Theo interceded between the two wizards. "Enough already," he said. "Be nice," he chided Potter. "I know Draco can be an annoying prat and all, but he's probably worried that his lovely bride will come to her senses and realize that she can do so much better than that!"

"Oi!" Draco protested, but his protests fell on deaf ears as the other wizards started exchanging supposedly amusing stories about him. Quite frankly Draco didn't see what they were all laughing at. He felt betrayed by his oldest friend. Theo was supposed to take his side and defend him against the aspersions Potter liked to cast on his character.

Suddenly the door swung open, and who of all people should stumble in but Weasley, looking uncomfortable in his formal dress robes. Draco rolled his eyes. He was beginning to wonder if there was some sort of conspiracy against him.

"Hey Harry," said Weasley as he struggled with the buttons on his sleeves. "Hermione needs you. She got into a little tiff with her dad and now he's refusing to walk her down the aisle. The girls are working on it, but Hermione stills wants to have you there as back up. I'm here to replace you if needed," he finished.

"What?" Draco exploded. "Are you joking? Potter's bad enough. I don't want you in my party."

"Trust me, Malfoy, I don't want to be here either. I offered to walk Hermione down the aisle myself but she just shook her head and said that you'd probably refuse her hand in marriage if I was the one offering it." He sighed and shook his head. "Silly girl never realized that was the entire point."

"Be nice, Ron," said Harry, unconsciously echoing Theo's words of moments before. "I'll go and see what I can do. Try not to get into too much trouble without me, okay? If it helps, imagine how peeved Hermione will be with you if you have a hand in ruining her wedding day." Weasley paled at that suggestion as Harry exited the room.

****

In the end, Hermione and her father came to terms at the last minute. She was set to walk down the aisle on her father's aisle once more, and Potter returned to take his place amongst the groomsmen, something for which Draco was eternally grateful. He wasn't fond of the other wizard, and he didn't think he would ever be. He could try to get along with him, however, seeing how Potter was one of Hermione's closest friends and all. The fact that Potter was held in great esteemed by the Wizarding World also helped.

The actual ceremony went off without a hitch. As Draco repeated his vows, he could feel the magic crystallizing around him, binding him to Hermione and ensuring he would keep his vows to her forever. From the look of wonder upon her face, he knew that she too could feel the ancient magic that they had invoked to tie their fates together. The priest pronounced them man and wife, and that was all the encouragement they needed to kiss. It was far too short in Draco's opinion—Weasley's face hadn't turned entirely red yet—but he wasn't about to start an argument with his wife this early into their marriage. He would wait until the evening at least when they were alone.

As one, they turned to face their guests. Hand in hand they walked backed down the aisle, with Draco bending down to whisper in Hermione's ear the words he had kept to himself for so long. Her face lit up with a brilliant smile, and he couldn't help but grin as well. Choosing her as his wife was the best decision he had ever made.

****

Much later that same evening, the young couple finally found themselves alone. Draco was sprawled out on their bed with Hermione comfortably tucked against his side, still attired in her wedding robes. He heard something that sounded suspiciously like a snore. Turning, he poked her elbow and said, "Don't tell me you're already asleep."

Her eyes fluttered open. "I'm not," she said. Then she yawned. "I'm just tired, that's all. The reception lasted forever."

"What do you mean lasted? I think it's still going on. With the way everyone's drinking, I don't think I want to see the bill."

Hermione nodded, then yawned again. "Speaking of the bill, the Muggle relations coordinator really deserves a bonus. She only diverted complete disaster a half dozen times this evening."

Draco snorted. "That we can blame on your guests, not mine. Mine know what not to say in front of Muggles. Too bad we can't say the same about the Weasleys."

She lifted up her head and swatted at him in annoyance. "You keep rubbing it in, and I'm leaving. It'll be separate rooms for the entire honeymoon if you're not careful."

"Oh we can't have that, now can we?" Before she knew what he was doing, Draco rolled over and pinned Hermione beneath him. "Now it's time for the celebration to really begin," he declared before pressing his lips to hers in a passionate kiss.

This time Draco had no complaints at all about its length.

****

**Author's note:** And hopefully none of you readers have many complaints with the length of this chapter. My apologies for that—it is a bit of a beast, even with me cutting it down by a third. There was just so much to cover in this last chapter. Thanks for reading all of this! Can you believe this fic is about 500 pages in Word? So much thanks to all you readers out there who have slogged through to this point.

As always, reviews would be very much appreciated. My thanks to everyone who took the time to review the last chapter: crimsoneyes44, Bauerbaby24, Kandygurl4, Ceralyn, JenJen10143, waffenmac, mkhtl, MamaJMarie, gitgit, Kae-Lae, alina290, mlui, Reshmi Solaris, and Ishtart. When you're trying to finish a long fic like this one, reviews help so much when it comes to keeping up your motivation. So really I can't say thanks enough to you all. :D

Finally the epilogue should be up some time next week or so. This chapter really ends the plot and action for this fic. The epilogue is just about where the characters are three months from now. But still I hope you'll enjoy it. :)


	37. Epilogue

**Ambition's End: Epilogue**

**Disclaimer:** Only the plot is mine. The characters, setting, and everything else belong to JKR.

****

Malfoy Manor was all decked out for the holidays. The grand ballroom was packed with people, with decorations, and with food. Hermione smiled at her husband from across the room. He was still engaged in a fierce argument with Ron over something about Quidditch. She didn't know what exactly they were debating, but it warmed her heart to see her husband getting along so well with her friends. It would be impossible to catch Draco's attention for some time, and so she decided to roam about the ballroom, mingling with their guests the way a good hostess should.

Usually Narcissa planned a gala for Christmas Eve but only hosted a few close friends for New Year's, claiming it was too exhausting to throw two balls in such quick succession. However, shortly after her son's wedding, the blonde witch had informed her new daughter-in-law that she would be in charge of planning their New Year's Eve party. Hermione could recall with perfect clarity the superior tone the older witch took when saddling her with that duty.

****

"And I was thinking whether or not we should coordinate our outfits for the Christmas Ball," Narcissa continued, "but I decided that would be too…." She made a dismissive gesture with her hands. "But do check in with me about your outfit nonetheless. I don't want our outfits to clash either. I wouldn't be able to show my face for weeks, and that simply wouldn't do as I have to attend your New Year's Eve gala the week after."

Hermione blinked. "What gala?" she asked.

"The one you're planning of course! Didn't Draco tell you?" The look Narcissa gave her was nothing short of condescending. Hermione sighed. While she sort of had a truce with her mother-in-law, she still found that dealing with the old witch anything but pleasant. She expected that Narcissa felt pretty much the same.

"No, he didn't," she said. "He probably intended to during the honeymoon, but trust me, he had other things on his mind." She smirked lasciviously and was gratified to see a faint blush cover Narcissa's cheeks.

However the other witch soon regained her composure. "Yes, well, be that as it may, we don't discuss that in public, dear. It's absolutely vulgar, you know," she said. "But since Draco hasn't told you, it appears that duty falls upon me. For years, I've been in charge of planning both our Christmas and New Year's parties. For New Year's, I hosted simpler events, usually just a few of our closest friends. That was out of necessity for having to host two galas in the space of a week…." She shuddered. "It's simply too much work."

"But now that you're part of the family," she went on, "you can take over that duty for me. Think of it as practice for the day you'll be responsible for our Christmas bash. It doesn't have to be all that large. I understand it's your first time, and you don't have much notice. But even then, do try not to embarrass us, darling."

****

Of course, Hermione hadn't taken the easy way out. She wasn't about to fall behind in her rivalry with the elder Mrs Malfoy so early into her marriage. Hermione had tossed herself wholeheartedly in to the task of planning a New Year's Eve party to rival the Christmas Ball Narcissa planned each year. She allowed herself a smug smile as she surveyed the room, silently congratulating herself on her success.

Hermione had gone with an Asian theme, knowing that the New Year was a bigger deal in the east than in the west. The decorations and food matched the theme accordingly. There were several noodle dishes for luck and longevity. Red and gold lanterns were strung about the entire ballroom, and all the plants were decked out with festive red ribbon. Hermione smiled as she thought of the special surprise she had planned for later in the evening. She had blatantly stolen the idea of a ceiling enchanted to look like the sky from Hogwarts. As midnight approached, the false sky would be filled with elaborate Chinese fireworks. All in all, Hermione thought she did a very good job.

The only area in which her party paled in comparison to Narcissa's was in the size of the guest list; hers was only half as long as the one for the Christmas Ball. That was partly by design, for Hermione thought the Manor had been too crowded during Christmas. However, the fact of the matter was that Hermione simply didn't know as many people as Narcissa did in the Wizarding World. As a result, her guest list was smaller.

Someone tapped her shoulder from behind, interrupting her thoughts. Hermione spun around and found herself face to face with Pansy Parkinson. Her face immediately lit up with a smile. "Hello Pansy," she said cheerfully. Then she did a double take. "Where's Justin? I thought you were coming together."

"We did," the other witch replied with an arch look, "but I sent him off to fetch some refreshments for me as I'm feeling thirsty."

"And you couldn't just summon a drink over?" Hermione asked.

"Why exert myself? That's what's Justin is for!" Pansy declared. Hermione grinned at the other witch's words. It was hard to believe that a little over a month ago she would have thought Pansy was being nasty rather than just teasing. Her opinion of the Slytherin witch had changed so much since Draco first brought her in to help Hermione plan this party.

****

Hermione looked up from her desk in the library as she heard her husband enter. "Oh good, you're here," she said. "I need you to go over the—"

Draco held up a hand to interrupt her. "I'd be useless, Hermione," he said. "I know just about as much as you when it comes to planning a gala like this. You'll probably say it's medieval, but that's a skill set taught to daughters, not to sons."

He was right. She didn't like that. Hermione bristled at his admission. "Be that as it may, I'd still appreciate your help. Does that mean you intend to abandon me in my time of need?"

"Not at all," he said. "I just thought Pansy would be able to help you better, and so I brought her here." He stepped to one side, revealing that the Slytherin witch had been behind him all along.

Hermione sized up the other witch, quietly wondering why Pansy would volunteer to help. Probably she was colluding with Narcissa to sabotage the party, Hermione decided. "I'll be fine, thanks," she said tightly.

Draco rolled his eyes. "If I can put up with your friends, then you can put up with mine. Especially since Pansy's so graciously offered to share what she knows about unwritten Wizarding customs with you."

That sounded too good to be true. Hermione switched her glare to Pansy and addressed her directly, "Sounds good, but what's in it for you?"

"Hermione!" Draco protested. Hermione could feel his annoyance through their bond

Pansy raised a hand to silence the wizard. "No, no. It's a fair question, Draco. I'll answer it," she said. "What's in it for me? Introductions."

"Introductions?" Hermione echoed.

"Yes, introductions. Seeing how I can't marry a pure-blood wizards, it behooves me to meet half-blood and Muggle-born wizards as I do intend to get married some day." The Slytherin witch glared at Draco from the corner of her eyes. "Someone was supposed to mention all that to you before this," she added acerbically.

"And I meant to. I just kept…getting distracted," said Draco. "Hermione's a very distracting witch."

"Ah yes. You were always single-minded like that," Pansy noted.

"You have no idea," Hermione muttered.

"Actually I do. You never had to stay up nights listening to him rant about how he was going to beat Gryffindor next year no matter what." Pansy glanced up and met Hermione's eyes, and just like that, a friendship was born.

****

Pansy's advice had been invaluable when it came to planning the party, and she had prevented Hermione from making any _faux pas_ for Narcissa to point out. Their friendship blossomed, and Pansy became a frequent guest at their home. During one dinner party, Hermione had introduced Pansy to Justin Finch-Fletchley. The two had hit it off, finding that their upbringing had been similar in many ways, and they had been together since then.

"So have you seen your mother-in-law yet?" asked Pansy. "It's obvious she's not at all pleased that this party is turning out so well." She shuddered delicately. "Honestly that was one of the reasons why I never wanted to marry Draco, even though it was the match my parents were hoping for. Draco's difficult to deal with himself as he is so spoiled. To have to put up with a vindictive mother-in-law like Narcissa…I think I would have gone mad."

"I think I would go mad if it weren't for Draco," said Hermione. "He's really put his foot down when it comes to her being at open war with me. So now she can only hope that I fail rather than work actively towards making me fail."

"And that's probably why she hates you so much," Pansy noted.

"I can live with that," Hermione replied. "Speaking of in-laws, have you met Justin's parents yet?"

"No, we're not that serious yet." Pansy pulled a face. "Part of me wants to put that off as long as possible. It'll be an absolute disaster, I'm sure."

"What will be a disaster?" asked Justin from behind them.

"Gah!" Pansy jumped up from surprise. "Don't do that!" she cried, swatting at the wizard's arm. "How many times have I told you not to sneak up on me like that?"

"Countless," he replied. He looked over at Hermione and said in a stage whisper, "But I find I can't help myself. She's adorable when startled."

"Justin!" Pansy ground her heel into his foot. "How many times do I have to tell you? I'm sexy, seductive, gorgeous—but not ever adorable!"

"You should add impossible to that list," he said with a wince. Hermione took that as her signal to leave. She knew that once the couple tended to ignore everyone else once they got started like that. True to form, neither of them even spared her a glance as she said good bye.

Hermione drifted away from her friends and started mingling in earnest. Several times she ran into acquaintances she had not seen in ages, and so she stopped to ask how they were and if there was anything new going on in their lives. She received a surprising amount of good news. Dennis was now working part time at George's shop, and the two got along smashingly well. Neville's teaching at Hogwarts had improved so much that he would be taking over the instruction of the first and second years completely next term. And last but not least, there was Katie.

"Katie!" Hermione rushed through the opening in the crowd to reach her friend. Impulsively she hugged the other witch. "I haven't seen you since…well it's been so long that it seems like an eternity."

"I know, I know. It has been forever," the other witch said. She took a step back and examined her friend. "You look well. Married life agrees with you," she pronounced.

"That it does. So business is booming for you, I hear," said Hermione. Her friend had been in high demand as a wedding planner ever since Hermione's own wedding. Pure-blood witches marrying Muggle-borns were desperate for help when it came to dealing with their prospective Muggle relatives. As such when Katie had put out her first advert for her services as a wedding planner, the response had been tremendous. Hermione was very happy for her friend, but she did miss spending time with her.

Katie nodded her head. "That it is. Can you believe that I got another client just this morning? That's why I keep blowing you off. I simply don't have time for any sort of a social life any more."

"Oh I understand." And Hermione did. Keeping herself busy was a way for Katie to deal with the pain of losing the wizard she loved. It wasn't the healthiest thing to do, and Hermione vowed to keep a closer eye on her. Hopefully with time, the heartache would grow less for Katie and she would be able to find a wizard of her own. Hermione sighed.

"Are you all right?" Katie asked.

"Oh yes, I'm fine. I was just thinking that"—Hermione mentally cast about for an excuse—"I was thinking how it's good that both Ginny's business and yours are both doing so well right now. I'm glad for both of you."

Katie raised an eyebrow. "I didn't think you'd say that."

"Why? Because of Harry?" said Hermione. "Oh no. Their break up was very much mutual. And I should know seeing how I was the first one they told and all."

****

Hermione looked at the couple across the table from her. Both of them were doing a remarkable job of not meeting her eyes. She sighed to herself. She had received owls from both Harry and Ginny earlier today, asking her to stop by Grimmauld Place this evening so that they could talk to her about something. However, now that she was here, they were doing anything but talking.

It was most strange. The owls had indicated that her friends had something big to tell her, and to Hermione's mind, that must mean that they were getting married. It was odd though. She thought they would have been bursting at the seams to tell her the good news as soon she had arrived, but instead they remained quiet.

Hermione sighed again. While she liked spending time with the young couple, she didn't want to be here all night. So she decided to prod them. "So you both said you have something to tell me?"

Two heads slowly nodded yes.

Hermione stifled a groan. She made another attempt. "Care to enlighten me?" she asked. "Actually no, scratch that. Go on and spit it out before I die from the suspense."

"We're breaking up," they both blurted out at once.

Hermione blinked. That was quite the opposite of what she had been expecting them to say. Indeed she had never seen this coming; she had always thought that Harry would eventually marry Ginny. "You're breaking up? But why?" she asked. "The two of you always seem so happy together."

"Well yes," Ginny said. "And it's not like I'm unhappy, it's just that…." She fell silent at a lost for words.

"We never have time for each other any more. Or maybe I should say that we never make time for each other any more," said Harry. "Ginny's busy with her shop and trying to keep up with the orders. And I'm busy as an Auror, trying to get rid of the dodgy types while training new recruits."

"And it's not that I don't love Harry. I think I always will," Ginny said, throwing a wistful glance at the wizard by her side.

"And I think a part of me will always love her," stated Harry. "Maybe it's better to call this a break rather than a break up. I don't know. But everyone's always expected us to get married. Molly's been asking us every weekend if we have any news to share with the family. And well I'm not ready yet and neither is Ginny."

"There's nothing wrong with that," said Hermione, "but surely you don't have to break up simply because you're not ready for marriage yet."

"No," said Ginny. "But I want to be able to throw myself wholeheartedly into expanding my shop. And I can't do that if I'm tied down."

"Is that so?" Hermione's first instinct was to swat the girl for being so insensitive, but she quickly realized that Harry hadn't taken offense at Ginny's words. She tilted her head and looked over at her best friend. "Do you feel the same way, Harry?" she asked him gently.

"More or less. I think our paths in lives are diverging right now. It would take a lot of energy for us to stay together and…well since we both want to direct that energy elsewhere we might as well call it off."

"And who knows?" he continued. "Maybe this will be just a break and we'll get back together at a later date. But for now what we both want is the freedom to pursue our dreams without the burden of everyone's expectations about us."

****

"Yes I know they say that their break up was mutual," Katie's voice broke through Hermione's reverie. "But I also know that not everyone believes that."

"Well I believe them, and so does Ron. That has to count for something," said Hermione. "Harry and Ginny…they just got so busy with their work that they grew apart. It's kind of sad to think that my wedding—"

Katie interrupted her before she could finish that thought. "No, Hermione," she said shaking her head. "Your wedding wasn't the ultimate cause for their split. The cracks were there before that. You said it yourself plenty of times—that you didn't see what Harry saw in Ginny since they wanted such different things out of life."

"I did, didn't I? I guess I was proven right in the end," she said. "And while I haven't seen much of Ginny, Harry seems to be happy. He's had his hands full, you know, with the Aurors being in a state of disarray." The two witches' conversation turned to lighter subjects before Katie was pulled away by one of her clients, leaving Hermione alone again.

She wasn't alone for long. "I'm surprise Malfoy's letting you wander about on your own," a smooth drawl sounded from the wall behind her.

"Hello to you too, Zabini," she replied without batting an eye. "And here I thought you'd be working tonight."

The dark wizard detached his lanky form from the wall so that he stood beside her. "I am working tonight. It seems that I spend at least half of my time doing PR for Kingsley at various events."

"I see," she said. The last couple of months hadn't been kind to Kingsley or his government. After the initial euphoria over Givens being caught had passed, the press had soon turned upon Kingsley, fueled no doubt the rage of those families who had lost sons to the madman. The fact that Kingsley had hired the man in the first place had some people calling on him to step down. Hermione had done her best to counteract such influence for she knew it would help her future plans to have her ally remain in power.

Words were not enough, however. Action had to be taken. At Hermione's urging, Kingsley had taken direct charge of the Aurors and was in the middle of weeding out any remaining bad seeds. Additionally he had created an internal affairs division of the Aurors that would report directly to him even after a new head Auror was appointed. Two of the founding members of the internal affairs team were Harry and Zabini.

"So how is Harry these days?" she asked the Slytherin wizard. "I imagine you're seeing more of him than me."

"I can attest to that," he replied smoothly. "Potter's the same as ever. Still trying to save the world, one soul at a time. Trying to talk to him once he's convinced of something is like talking to a brick wall."

Hermione rolled her eyes. She knew exactly what Zabini was talking about. "Stubborn does not begin to describe Harry," she agreed. "And I might add that I'd rather talk to a brick wall than Harry when he gets in one of his moods. At least I can blow up the wall to alleviate my frustration."

Zabini raised up one eyebrow at that remark. "I find that there are other, more pleasant ways of relieving frustration," he noted urbanely.

Just then an arm slid around Hermione's waist, drawing her up against a very masculine chest. She looked up and into her husband's stormy, grey eyes. "Trying to steal my witch, Zabini?" he asked flatly.

"I wouldn't dream of it," the other wizard replied. "I was merely trying to entertain her while you were off arguing with Weasley like a fool."

Draco gave a half growl of sorts. "You'll have to excuse us," he said roughly, "for Hermione has promised me this dance." He tugged at Hermione's arm and led her to the dance floor.

"You know you have nothing to worry about," she told him, her tone clearly amused. "He was just trying to tease you, that's all."

"It was more than that," he snapped back. "Didn't you hear him? He was all but accusing me of not taking care of you."

She sighed softly, then leaned her head against his shoulder. "That sounds like a guilty conscience talking. I don't think that's what Zabini was trying to do at all; it's not as though he knows. Besides he's well aware that I can take care of myself." She looked up at him and smiled. "You should know that too by now."

"I suppose I do," he said. His anger faded away as they waltzed together. It felt very natural for her to let him lead. Sometimes Hermione still marveled at all the changes she had been through in the last few months. When she had originally laid out her plans, Draco had merely been a tool for her to use. Now he was her partner in every sense of the word. She couldn't imagine living without him.

The song ended. Draco guided her off the floor as the band switched to something with a more upbeat tempo. She yawned suddenly, and he regarded her with a critical eye. "Are you all right?" he asked. "If you're tired, we can leave for the evening. Mother will smooth everything over for us and make sure no one misses us."

"I'm sure she would," said Hermione with some aspersion. Even now, she didn't trust the older witch. "And I'm fine. Don't worry about me so much."

"Can't help it love," he said with a cheeky grin. His silver eyes glinted with unspoken glee, and she was taken back to a conversation they had a little over a week ago.

****

"Hermione!" Draco called out from the bedroom. "If you don't go now, then you'll be late for your meeting with Mother."

Hermione stifled a groan. "I know that," she said through gritted teeth. She rested one hand on her stomach and closed her eyes, trying to clear her mind and calm her nerves. Her breathing slowed, and the nausea she had been suffering from since she woke started to ease. She thought she might feel well enough to stand in a couple of minutes.

Unfortunately for her, her husband decided just then and there to interrupt her peace and quiet. "Come on, darling. I know my mother is hard to deal with and all, but she won't be any more pleasant if you keep her waiting at the breakfast table." Cursing Draco's choice of words as her nausea flared to life once more, Hermione knelt forward to retch once more. She was vaguely aware of the bathroom door opening behind her and her husband stepping in.

"Hermione! Are you feeling all right?" he asked. His voice laced with concern as he approached her.

"Quite," she replied with all the irony she could muster. "Don't you know this is how I start every day?"

She could feel him frowning at her though she couldn't see him. "That's enough, dear. I'll owl Mother and let her know that you're not feeling well. I am positive that she can manage to finalize the seating arrangements without your input. After that, I'll be taking you to see the mediwizard." There was a layer of steel beneath his tone, hinting at the fact that he wouldn't take no for an answer.

"It's all right. I saw the doctor yesterday," she told him. "No need to go again today. I'm fine."

"Well he mustn't have been very good. You're obviously not fine. I know you've been trying to hide it, not wanting to ruin the holidays and all, but I know that you've been sick these last few days. Got a spot of the flu, don't you?" He shook his head. "And of course, you don't slow down. Any witch with a modicum of sense would stay in bed and try to get better, but not you. No, you press forward, full speed ahead and all that. I do wish you would take better care of yourself."

Draco continued to nag her. Her nausea was fading away but at the expense of a headache forming. She sighed. This was not the way she wanted to tell him. She was enough of a girl to want to make it a bit romantic, and so Hermione had been planning to tell him on Christmas Eve. But that was not to be. She took a deep breath and then interrupted his tirade.

"I'm pregnant," she told him and was rewarded with the sounds of blessed silence as he rocked back on his heels, totally taken by surprise by her revelation.

****

Hermione smiled to herself as she remembered his reaction after that. Or rather his over reaction. He had insisted on carrying her back to bed, ignoring her protests that bed rest wasn't all that it was chalked up to be. It had taken some time for her to drill the idea that she was not about to fall apart through his thick skull.

Even now, he was sometimes over attentive towards her, but she let that slide so long as he didn't try to unduly limit her activities. He only acted that way because he loved her after all. That was enough to make her forgive him for almost anything. So far, they hadn't told anyone else the happy news. They had decided it was best to wait to tell everyone after she was safely past the first trimester.

"Are you certain you're all right?" Draco asked her again. "Like I said—"

"Trust me, you'll be the first one to know if I need to go home," she reassured him. She patted his arm comfortingly. "I would like to stick around till midnight, seeing how it's not that far off, but I shan't if I'm not feeling well."

They were interrupted by the doors to the ballroom opening. Both of Hermione's eyebrows shot up as she wondered just who was showing so late, as it was past eleven. To her surprise, Padma walked in with Anthony by her side. Hermione tugged at Draco's arm, wanting to welcome her friends to the party while seeing what had kept them so long. However, Padma was happy to answer that question before Hermione ever asked it.

"Oh Hermione!" Padma said, rushing forward to stand in front of the other witch. "I'm so glad we made it in time. We meant to be here ages ago, you see, but the entire department is in an uproar seeing how Merlose just woke up at St. Mungo's."

Hermione's gasp was hidden amongst the fireworks that started to go off in the enchanted ceiling above them, and the butterflies in her stomach had nothing to do with her condition and everything to do with such an inauspicious start to the New Year.

****

**Author's note:** Thank you so much for reading this fic of mine. I hope you've enjoyed the ride; I know I have. Reviews of any shape and size are very much appreciated. And if there's something you think I could improve, please let me know as I probably will eventually go back to revise parts of this fic.

Finally my thanks to everyone who took the time to review the last chapter: waffenmac, oscarg, spannieren, MamaJMarie, caseyjarryn, Kae-Lae, smaginn, starrlightt, mkhtl, OokamiMomo, gitgit, Dixiecharmer, crimsoneyes44, Reshmi solaris, mlui, aureliasilver, Ceralyn, ebbe04, LeaFairy124, alina290, Creative Pixie, lrmorena, and kazfeist.


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